This page needs to be proofread.
SEEDTIME AND HARVEST.
Long ago I used to pray
To be loved and to be wooed,
Spotlessly as maidens may,
Ignorant of motherhood.
Now I am to woman grown,
Love seems but an idle mood,
For I hear in every tone
Overtures to motherhood.
And I lie and pray to thee,
Mary Virgin, pure and good,
Thou canst calm the raging sea,
Still my cry for motherhood.
Grant my breasts may yield reply
To an infants cry for food;
May his dimpled fingers lie
On those springs of motherhood.
I would brave the hideous pain
Of they death-watch by the rood,
If by sorrow I could gain
The fierce joy of motherhood.
61
