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Softly sinking, down he goes!
Josiah Gilbert Holland
A SONG OF TWILIGHT
Он, to come home once more, when the dusk is falling,
To see the nursery lighted and the children's table spread;
"Mother, mother, mother!" the eager voices calling,
"The baby was so sleepy that he had to go to bed!"
Oh, to come home once more, and see the smiling faces,
Dark head, bright head, clustered at the
Much the years have taken, when the heart its path retraces,
But until time is not for me, the image will remain.
Men and women now they are, standing straight and steady,
Grave heart, gay heart, fit for life's em
Shoulder set to shoulder, how should they be
The future shines before them with the light of their own eyes.
Still each answers to my call; no good has been denied me,
My burdens have been fitted to the little strength that 's mine,
Beauty, pride and peace have walked by day beside me,
The evening closes gently in, and how can I repine?
But oh, to see once more, when the early dusk is falling;
The nursery windows glowing and the children's table spread;
"Mother, mother, mother!" the high childvoices calling,
"He could n't stay awake for you, he had
to go to bed!"
TUCKING THE BABY IN
THE dark-fringed eyelids slowly close
Upon my breast my own sweet child
I kiss his soft and dimpled cheek,
How fair and innocent he lies;
Like some small angel strayed,
His face still warmed by God's own smile,
Or like some new embodied soul,
My thoughts are reverent as I stoop
What toil must stain these tiny hands
O what am I that I should train
I reach him up to the sinless Hands
Before his cares begin,
Great Father, with Thy folds of love,
O tuck my baby in.
MOTHER AND CHILD
THE wind blew wide the casement, and within
It was the loveliest picture! - a sweet child Lay in its mother's arms, and drew its life, In pauses, from the fountain, the white
Part shaded by loose tresses, soft and dark, Concealing, but still showing, the fair realm Of so much rapture, as green shadowing
With beauty shroud the brooklet. The red lips
Were parted, and the cheek upon the breast Lay close, and, like the young leaf of the flower,
Wore the same color, rich and warm and
And such alone are beautiful. Its eye,
As if it knew even then that such a wreath
Its head on the shrine of such pure joys,
And, laughing, slept. And while it slept, the
Of the sweet mother fell upon its cheek, Tears such as fall from April skies, and bring
The sunlight after. They were tears of joy; And the true heart of that young mother
Grew lighter, and she sang unconsciously The silliest ballad-song that ever yet Subdued the nursery's voices, and brought
To fold her sabbath wings above its couch.
William Gilmore Simms
WITHIN the crib that stands beside my bed
O world of Mothers! blest are we who know
The ecstasy the deep God-given
That Mary felt when all the earth was
In the Judean starlight long ago!
Anne P. L. Field