  "Give me a little child To draw this dreary want out of my breast," I cried to God. "Give, for my days beat wild With loneliness that will not rest But under the still sod!" It came—with groping lips And little fingers stealing aimlessly About my heart. I was like one who slips A-sudden into Ecstasy And thinks ne'er to depart. "Soon he will smile," I said, "And babble baby love into my ears— How it will thrill!" I waited—Oh, the dread, The clutching agony, the fears!— He was so strange and still. Did I curse God and rave When they came shrinkingly to tell me 'twas A witless child? No ... I ... I only gave One cry ... just one ... I think ... because ... You know ... he never smiled. |
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