THE ANSWERED PRAYER
In fair Brittany we wandered,
Loitering on our pleasant way,—
Adding to the cherished pictures
That kind Memory holds to-day:
And among the very fairest,
With its setting quaint and old,
Deem I this, whose touching pathos,
Has a charm the heart to hold.
Loitering on our pleasant way,—
Adding to the cherished pictures
That kind Memory holds to-day:
And among the very fairest,
With its setting quaint and old,
Deem I this, whose touching pathos,
Has a charm the heart to hold.
A wan, crippled little maiden,
With a sweet and patient face,
And a voice whose mournful cadence
Gave her words a touching grace.—
Oft we saw her in our rambles,
Sitting by the flower-edged way,
And we marked the tender kindness,
Of her little mates at play.
With a sweet and patient face,
And a voice whose mournful cadence
Gave her words a touching grace.—
Oft we saw her in our rambles,
Sitting by the flower-edged way,
And we marked the tender kindness,
Of her little mates at play.
Thus one morn we saw her sitting,
And her smile such radiance shed,
That she seemed a saintly maiden,
With a halo o'er her head.
And we questioned, "Was she better?"
While she softly answered "Nay,
But I shall be soon, for surely
Christ will hear my mother pray."
And her smile such radiance shed,
That she seemed a saintly maiden,
With a halo o'er her head.
And we questioned, "Was she better?"
While she softly answered "Nay,
But I shall be soon, for surely
Christ will hear my mother pray."
Days sped on, another morning
And a bier strewn sweet with flowers,
Told us she indeed was better
In a fairer world than ours.
So unto the mother's praying
The dear Lord had answered best,
And instead of earthly comfort,
He had given Heavenly rest.
And a bier strewn sweet with flowers,
Told us she indeed was better
In a fairer world than ours.
So unto the mother's praying
The dear Lord had answered best,
And instead of earthly comfort,
He had given Heavenly rest.
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