Page:Poems Tynan.djvu/245

His bed was soft as a nest of roses,
 His robes were all of the linen spun,
He had taken naught but a handful of posies
 When he went out on his way alone—
When he went out where she might not follow,
 And left her stricken and cold and bare,
His radiant journey by hill and hollow,
 To the dear God's House in the glittering air

He thinks of his mother through all that cheer
He would never forget in a hundred year.

She will come one day to God's nursery,
 Where His little babies are safe and warm
And lift the little one to her knee,
 And lose the ache of the empty arm,
And lose the ache of the empty heart,
 And fashion newly Love's empty nest,
And kiss his brows and his lips apart.
 And give him milk from her lonely breast.

He thinks of his mother through all that cheer;
He would never forget in a hundred year.

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