Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/126

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THE YOUTH BEWITCHED
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Soon pressed a hand upon the latch,
I feared the evil fairy;
But when I raised my frightened eyes
'Twas none but Dwyer's Mary.

I told her of the boy bewitched,
She listened unbelieving;
And said she knew to-morrow's eve
Would free him of his grieving.

She turned her blushing face aside,
Her voice was low and cheering;
But, ah I she cannot silence so
A mother's heart from fearing.