THE limbs she bore and cherished tenderly,
And rocked against her heart, with loving fears,
Through helpless infancy that all endears,
Unto the verge of manhood's empery,
Were fostered for this cruel end, and she
Kneeling beside him, looks through blinding tears
Down the long vista of the lonely years,
Void of all light, drear as eternity.
But her young son, who knows not that he dies,
Gives good-night lightly, on the utmost brink,
And, anguish overmastered for her sake,
Says smiling with stiff lips and death-dimmed eyes,
"Why, Mother, if you kiss me so, I'll think
You'll not be here to-morrow, when I wake."