Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE ROAD IS SO LONESOME BETWEEN, by MAY LOUISE RILEY SMITH



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THE ROAD IS SO LONESOME BETWEEN, by            
First Line: When the crickets chirp in the evening
Last Line: My child will come with the rest.
Alternate Author Name(s): Smith, Mary Louise Riley
Subject(s): Mothers


WHEN the crickets chirp in the evening,
And the stars flash out in the sky,
I sit in my lonely door-way
And watch the children go by;
I look at their fresh young faces,
And hark to each merry word,
For to me, a child's own language
Is the sweetest e'er was heard.

And so I sit in my door-way
In the hour that I love the best,
And think as I see them passing,
My child will come with the rest;
Think, when I hear the clicking
Of the little garden gate,
My darling's hand is upon it--
O, why has she come so late?

But the days have been slowly weaving
Their warp of toil in my life;
The weeks have rolled on me their burden
Of waiting and patience and strife;
The flowers that came with the summer
Have finished their errand so sweet,
And autumn is dropping her harvests
Mellow and ripe at my feet.

And yet my little girl comes not,
And I think she has missed her way,
And strayed from this cold, dark country
To one of perpetual day.
I think that the angels have found her,
And, loving her better than we,
Have begged the Good Father to keep her,
Right on through eternity.

Perhaps. But I long to enfold her,
To tangle my hands in her hair,
To feast my starved mouth on her kisses,
To hear her light foot on the stair.
I am but a poor, selfish mother,
And mother-hearts starve, though they know
Their children are drinking the nectar
From lilies in heaven that blow.

Some day I am sure I shall find her,--
But the road is so lonesome between,
My spirit grows sick and impatient
For a glimpse of the pastures so green.
Till then I shall sit in the door-way,
In the hour that my heart loves best,
And think when the children pass homeward,
My child will come with the rest.





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