THE KOBZAR OF THE UKRAINE
45
Perchance they're called to go to God,
Nor longer dwell on earth's green sod.
Then who for them on that far way
Horses and chariot shall array?
"Anastasia, wife of mine,
Soon will come our fatal day,
Who will lay our bones away?"
"God only knows.
With me always was that thought
Which gloom into my heart has brought.
Together in years and failing health,
For what have we gathered
all this wealth?"
"Hold a minute,
Hearest thou? Something cries
Beyond the gate—'tis like a child.
Let's run! See'st ought?
I thought something was there."
Together they sprang
And to the gate running;
Then stopped in silence wondering.
Before the stile
a swaddled child,
Not bound tightly,
just wrapped lightly,
For it was
in summer mild.
