My Children
Dublin Core
Title
My Children
Description
They sleep; athwart my white
Moon-marbled casement, with her solemn mein,Silently watching o'er their rest serene,
Gazeth the star-eyed Night.
My girl, sedate or wild,
Or grave as Night or star-lit Southern seas,
Serence, strange woman-child!
My boy, my trembling star!
The bluest flower-bell in the shadiest wold
His gentle emblems are.
They are but two, and all
When these are counted, High and Holy One,
O hear my trembling call!
I ask not wealth nor fame
Soothe not the aching brow that throbs beneath,
Nor cool its fevered flame.
I ask not length of life,
The gifted tread; unsafe the world's best praise
And keen its strife.
I ask not that to me
Than rain to deserts, sunshine to the sea,
Or spring flowers to the bee.
But kneeling at their feet,
Are glancing from her glad and sinless dreams,
I would my prayer repeat.
In that alluring land.
Ornate with proud and crimson flowers,
Pleasure, with smooth, white hand.
Beckons the young away
Sin, the grim she-wolf, croucheth in her lair,
Ready to seize her prey.
The bright and purpling bloom
The charred and bleaching bones that are denied
Taper, and chrism, and tomb!
Lord, in this midnight hour,
Thy mercy, save them from th'envenomed tooth,
And tempting poison-flowers!
O, Crucified and Crowned,
Let sorrow comeālet Hope's last blossom be
By Grief's dark deluge drowned;
But lead by Thine hand,
The still, dear waters in the pastures wide
Of Thine our Sinless Lamb.
Creator
Unattributed
Source
1:6, p. 1
Date
9.7.1861
Collection
Citation
Unattributed, “My Children,” Periodical Poets, accessed September 19, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/716.
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