Thy baby too, the child that was to be Through happier days--a brightening sun above-- Held to thy heart with more forgetful love, So proud a portion of thyself and me: We talked it o'er,--the bliss that was to bless; The birth, the baby robes, the christening, And all our hearts were carried in this thing. Cold, cold she lies where houseless tempests blow. The baby's face is here, almost a woe; And I, so seared in soul, so sapped and shrunk, Gaze hopeless,--careless, in my changed estate To fall at once, or in the wilderness Stand like a charred and fire-hardened trunk, To break the axe's edge of time and fate. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HITS AND RUNS by CARL SANDBURG A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 3. AMARYLLIS by THOMAS CAMPION CINQUAIN: THE WARNING by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY OFF THE GROUND by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE FARMER'S BRIDE by CHARLOTTE MEW |