Poems (Greenwell)/The Babes in the Wood
THE BABES IN THE WOOD.A lover's dream.
So dreaming sad and true, He deemed he saw two outcast children rove; Oft had he nursed them fondly, so he knew Their faces—Hope and Love!
And ever farther North— Such heavy doom lay on them through some sin And sorrow not their own—they wandered forth, And none did take them in.
The wild wind round them strewed Brown whirling leaves, and sighed amid its play, While ever deeper in the wintry wood Their small feet went astray.
Yet smiling as they sung Their little songs, they held each other's hand, And cheered each other onwards in a tongue None else might understand.
They fed each other kind— For slender food these gentle Babes require—With here and there a berry, left behind On ragged thorn or brier.
And closer, as the dew Fell dank, unto each other's side they crept; And closer, closer to each other drew For warmth, before they slept;
For by some law, these two Together born, together linked for aye, Could only die together! so they knew What time their hour drew nigh.
And oft amid the chill They woke, and listened for each other's breath, And felt a pulse beat feebly; all was still, And yet it was not Death!
"Still, Brother, thou art warm," They whispered to each other; till its fold Relaxing languidly, each little arm Grew stiff, and both were cold.
No pious Robins there Brought leaves; but smitten with a late remorse, A pitying Spirit of the upper air Wept kind above each corse;
And from undying bowers Shook on those Children, buried in the snow, Sweet buds and blossoms of the very flowers They played with long ago!