Poems (Crandall)/The Word Unsaid

by Rosa Neil Crandall

Weaning

With a cheek of velvet
  To my shoulder pressed;
Sitting in the moonlight,
  Soothing babe to rest.

Rocking in the moonlight,
  Sitting up in bed.
Bear the milk untasted
  Away with careful tread.

Little tear drops falling
  On my neck like rain,
Baby's heart most broken,
  Sobbing all in vain.

Now his eyes are closing,
  Hush my very heart;
Move him gently—gently,
  See that frightened start?

Tuck the covers softly
  Round the dimpled feet;
Poor, wee, troubled darling
  Sighing in his sleep.

Thus begins our trials
  Ere we learn to talk;
Weaned at every turning,
  Down life's crooked walk.

We are weaned from mother;
  Soon when older grown,
Cares and duties call us,
  Wean us from our home.

Then within some other,
  By small hands caressed,
With a cheek of velvet
  To the shoulder pressed.

But we cannot keep it,
  'Tis not nature's way;
Tho' we miss the burden
  Soon 'twill grow away.

Evening shadows falling,
  Make the lesson clear;
Weaned from every treasure
  Human hearts hold dear.

Till eternal glory—
  All our struggles past—
Breaks upon our our vision—
  Weaned from earth at last.