Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FOUNDLING, by MARGARET ELIZABETH MUNSON SANGSTER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FOUNDLING, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: There's the glimmer of dew on the bending grass
Last Line: But love has found him at morning's light.
Alternate Author Name(s): Van Deth, Gerrit, Mrs.
Subject(s): Comfort; Love - Marital; Wedded Love; Marriage - Love


THERE'S the glimmer of dew on the bending grass;
There's arrowy light from the sunny sky,
Where the soft fleece clouds, as they meet and pass,
Like the pictured sails in a dream go by;
And, herself as fair as a morn of May,
The maiden walks in the early day.

Hark! What was that from the tangled hedge
A little way back? 'T was a cry of pain,
And she paused at the pasture's rippling edge,
And listened. It came to her ear again,—
The moan of a wee lost lamb, distressed,
And soon she was clasping it to her breast.

Wrapping it close in her mantle's fold,
And over it grieving with gentle eyes.
"Poor little wanderer, faint and cold,
Another time will you not be wise,—
Stay by the flock in a safer place?"
She seems to say with her tender face.

That pitiful face reveals a heart
With room to cherish all helpless things;
Hers, you may guess, is the magic art
Which everywhere healing and comfort brings.
Deft are her fingers with womanly skill,
And womanly sweet is her gracious will.

The wee white lamb has forgotten fear;
Content he lies in the loving arms,
Which cradle him soft in a hemisphere
Of fond caresses and placid charms.
Frightened and chilled was the waif last night,
But love has found him at morning's light.





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