Poems (Terry, 1861)/Lost on the Prairie
LOST ON THE PRAIRIE.
Oh, my baby, my child, my darling! Lost and gone in the prairie wild;Mad gray wolves from the forest snarling, Snarling for thee, my little child!
Lost, lost! gone forever! Gay snakes rattled and charmed and sung;On thy head the sun's fierce fever, Dews of death on thy white lip hung!
Dead and pale in the moonlight's glory, Cold and dead by the black oak-tree;Only a small shoe, stained and gory, Blood-red, tattered,—comes home to me.
Over the grass that rolls, like ocean, On and on to the blue, bent sky,Something comes with a hurried motion, Something calls with a choking cry,—
"Here, here! not dead, but living!" God! Thy goodness—what can I pray?Blessed more in this second giving, Laid in happier arms to-day.
Oh, my baby, my child, my darling! Wolf and snake and the lonely treeStill are rustling, hissing, snarling; Here's my baby come back to me!