And it lay on my heart like a stone . . as chill.
—The sun may shine out as much as he will:
I am cold, though it happened a month ago.
XXV.
From the white man's house, and the black man's hut,
I carried the little body on.
The forest's arms did round us shut,
And silence through the trees did run:
They asked no question as I went,—
They stood too high for astonishment,—
They could see God sit on his throne.
XXVI.
My little body, kerchiefed fast,
I bore it on through the forest . . on :
And when I felt it was tired at last,
I scooped a hole beneath the moon.
Through the forest-tops the angels far,
With a white sharp finger from every star,
Did point and mock at what was done.
XXVII.
Yet when it was all done aright, . .
Earth, 'twixt me and my baby, strewed, . .
All, changed to black earth, . . nothing white, . .
A dark child in the dark,—ensued
Some comfort, and my heart grew young:
I sate down smiling there and sung
The song I learnt in my maidenhood.
