A Summer Day.
The flowers lay sleeping beneath the dew—1
But the Mother had watched the whole night through.2
The wild sweet carol of one small bird3
Was the sound that the weary watcher heard.4
And the Summer dawn grew into the Morn,5
But still she sat weeping beside her first-born.6
Life was fading from cheek and brow,7
And the Mother’s heart was hopeless now.8
Not one sound in the chamber of death9
Was heard—save the Maiden’s labouring breath ;10
No word of murmur the Mother spake ;11
Silent and calm are the hearts that break.12
Morning passed—and the Noon so still13
Bathed in warm loveliness wood and hill.14
Slumbrous airs from the West went by,15
And the Mother watched for her child to die.16
Afternoon came—and the Maiden lay17
Lifeless and soulless—a mould of clay !18
Rain came down as from eyes that wept,19
Watching was over—the Maiden slept.20
Through the quiet falling of evening rain21
The bird’s soft carol stole in again !22
Then the Mother said—‘’Tis a message for me,23
To tell me, O child, that ’tis well with thee !’24
And the Summer day ended, for ‘ late or long,25
Every day weareth to even-song.’26