74
poems.
Dark poverty has enter'd that proud hall;
The wife is weeping o'er her wretched fate;
She heeds not her sweet infant's plaintive call:
But Mary hastens through those halls of state.
The wife is weeping o'er her wretched fate;
She heeds not her sweet infant's plaintive call:
But Mary hastens through those halls of state.
She kneels beside the lovely little one;
Then on her tender bosom, with deep joy,
She bears to the proud mother her fair son,
And asks if she may tend the noble boy.
Then on her tender bosom, with deep joy,
She bears to the proud mother her fair son,
And asks if she may tend the noble boy.
With weeping eyes, the babe the mother gives.
And asks what stranger seeks her lone abode:
No other being among all that lives
For many days the silent hall had trod?
And asks what stranger seeks her lone abode:
No other being among all that lives
For many days the silent hall had trod?
'I am a maid,' the blushing girl repli'd,
'Whose home was in seclusion's humble shade,
But wealth last year came when mine uncle died,
And with the same what you have ow'd is paid.
'Whose home was in seclusion's humble shade,
But wealth last year came when mine uncle died,
And with the same what you have ow'd is paid.
'This house is yours,—but let me rear this boy,
The image of the dead whom we have lov'd;
He to our hearts will give delight and joy';
Her true devotion the great lady mov'd.
The image of the dead whom we have lov'd;
He to our hearts will give delight and joy';
Her true devotion the great lady mov'd.
'Oh, Mary, thou art worthy of all love!
I, by my folly, lost my once dear home.
He whom we lov'd will witness all above:
Here dwell, and rear our boy;—sweet Mary, come!'
I, by my folly, lost my once dear home.
He whom we lov'd will witness all above:
Here dwell, and rear our boy;—sweet Mary, come!'
