LOCKING THE DOOR.
WITH trembling step and chastened heart I trod
The hall that night, with thought to bolt the door;
For strength I plead to bear the heavy rod,
And felt my trial, or the worst was o'er.
And yet I prayed, and paused, till hours flew by,
Till warned of midnight by the striking bell,
I had no power to turn the key, but why?
Ask those bereft the same, if they can tell.
The hall that night, with thought to bolt the door;
For strength I plead to bear the heavy rod,
And felt my trial, or the worst was o'er.
And yet I prayed, and paused, till hours flew by,
Till warned of midnight by the striking bell,
I had no power to turn the key, but why?
Ask those bereft the same, if they can tell.
Ask such if they can any language find
To paint the anguish of a mother's heart,
Ere she to battle has her son resigned
To act a soldier's, aye, a hero's part!
Let them explain, without emotion tell,
The mystery why I lingered then and there:
The effort will the very thought repel—
No parting can with this sad one compare.
To paint the anguish of a mother's heart,
Ere she to battle has her son resigned
To act a soldier's, aye, a hero's part!
Let them explain, without emotion tell,
The mystery why I lingered then and there:
The effort will the very thought repel—
No parting can with this sad one compare.
When worn and weary with distracted thought,
Upon a couch I rested there awhile,
Till from my dreams a ray of light I caught,
Which waking did the darkness all beguile;
Upon a couch I rested there awhile,
Till from my dreams a ray of light I caught,
Which waking did the darkness all beguile;
