TO A YOUNG LADY,
WHOSE MOTHER WAS INSANE FROM HER BIRTH.
And thou hast never, never known
A mother's love, a mother's care!
Hast wept, and sighed, and smiled alone,
Unblest by e'en a mother's prayer.
A mother's love, a mother's care!
Hast wept, and sighed, and smiled alone,
Unblest by e'en a mother's prayer.
O, if sad sorrow's blighting hand
Hath e'er an arrow, it is this:
To feel that frenzy's burning brand
Hath wiped away a mother's kiss;
Hath e'er an arrow, it is this:
To feel that frenzy's burning brand
Hath wiped away a mother's kiss;
To mark the gulf, the starless wave,
Which rolls between thee and her love;
To feel that better were a grave,
A grave beneath, a home above,
Which rolls between thee and her love;
To feel that better were a grave,
A grave beneath, a home above,
Than thus that she should linger on,
In dreamless, sunless solitude,
Like some bright ruined shrine, where one
All loveliness and truth hath stood.
In dreamless, sunless solitude,
Like some bright ruined shrine, where one
All loveliness and truth hath stood.
And he, her love, her life, her light,
How burst the storm o'er him!
O, darker than Egyptian night,—
'Twas one wild troubled dream!
How burst the storm o'er him!
O, darker than Egyptian night,—
'Twas one wild troubled dream!
