WHO, gazing on thy cradle sleep In far sweet days let down from heaven (Such days there be to mothers given), Had thought of shadows gathering deep, Or caught upon the baby brow One faintest sign of furrowing scar, One presage of the lurid star That overarcs thy pathway now. Not love itself had power to rend The future's kind opaque away, Not love itself had power to stay A single dart that fate should send. Perchance thine angel watching knew, And veiled his face, and hushed his song One moment in the radiant throng, Ah, God! what could an angel do, Seeing in sinister outline The portent of that baleful dross That sum of grief and shame and loss, Which only angels could divine? Yet, even as @3infelix@1 I write, A mighty wave blots out the word, No human cry but God hath heard! No dark but melts in heaven's light! And in great ages yet to be, The sorrowful tale forever told, Thy God Himself His lost shall fold, And thine own mother comfort thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOOLIN' WID DE SEASONS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE SPIRIT OF SHAKESPEARE: 2 by GEORGE MEREDITH THERMOPYLAE by SIMONIDES OF CEOS GOOD-BYE MY FANCY! by WALT WHITMAN ADVENTURE ON THE WINGS OF MORNING by RACHEL ALBRIGHT EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 6. FAIR AND SOFTLY by PHILIP AYRES FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: SORROW by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |