WHEN thou wert born into the world, My darling little child, A robin sought the window sill And piped its "wood-notes wild," When thou wert laid away to rest, Beneath the churchyard clay, A robin came a second time To sing a mournful lay. Did the bird come to solace me With message from the skies, When thou wert welcomed to the earth And then to Paradise? Was it thy guardian spirit, love, That met me, first and last, Across the sparkling bridge that spans The Future and the Past? Dear robin, with the tender heart, I know how it is said Your snowy bosom once became A holy tint of red. 'Twas on the Saviour's thorny crown You bruised your dainty breast, And unto you and Him I come For comfort and for rest. Lord! thou hast given me a child And taken her away! Behold me prostrate in the dust, A mourner night and day. My heart is empty and my soul Rebellious in Thy sight— Grant me the boon of perfect trust, And lead me to the light. Teach me that it was surely best My one ewe lamb should go Beyond the starry gems of night And wilderness of woe. Teach me that on some radiant shore, Beyond th' eternal main, I shall behold her glorious eyes, And clasp her form again! Lord! I am in the Vale of Death! No beacon burns within; Send me a vision of my child To break the spell of sin. Bid her come as a bird and say: "Mother, look up and see How I am saved for endless joy— Sweet mother! follow me! "Had I remained upon the earth, As you so fiercely prayed, There would have come a dismal fate To grieve your little maid. Sorrow and sickness and despair Would toss my soul about, Till I should live a life of pain And die the death of doubt. "Christ, in His mercy and His love, Has spared your darling this, Giving instead a home divine And everlasting bliss. Lo! He has bid me fly to you, And in the twilight dim, Reveal how I was called away To lead you on to Him! "Mother! the faith that guides to God Will bring your soul to me; There is no other certain way Your cherub child to see. Close not your ears to this appeal That calms all human strife, Making the gloomy grave itself The Golden Gate of Life! "The love that shall not lose its own Must seek celestial fire— Must light its torch by Heavenly flame, And not the Pagan pyre. Mother! dear mother! hear your child And let her win you where The King of Glory sits enthroned With 'angels bright and fair.' "And when the hour shall come for you To bid the world farewell, I shall be hovering o'er your couch To hear the dying knell; And you shall see me, robed in white, With the red-breast in my hand, Thrilling to guide you gently on To the Eternal Land!" My child! I hear thy voice and heed— I go to God and thee! Lead thou me on to thy abode Beyond the sapphire sea! And while thy little body sleeps Among the birds and flowers, I know thy sinless spirit soars In happier skies than ours! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OH! WEEP FOR THOSE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT TO MRS. THRALE [ON HER COMPLETING HER THIRTY-FIFTH YEAR] by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 18 by OMAR KHAYYAM EPISTLE TO ROBERT, EARL OF OXFORD, AND EARL MORTIMER by ALEXANDER POPE THE KEARSARGE (1894) by JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE PIONEERS! O PIONEERS! by WALT WHITMAN ON HEARING THAT THE STUDENTS OF OUR NEW UNIVERSITY JOINED AGITATION .. by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |