Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/69

38 But from afar I see his children all Around the crackling vine-leaves in a glow, Search on his knees the sweet caress of eve. Towards the open chapel tired I crawl, Oft weeping—the only house below Where I am not a stranger; the only door Which does not shut at my approach. I grieve But feel consoled when kneeling on that floor.
 * Then at the hour of prayer

Often my wandering footsteps stray Among the lonely tombs. No peace is there. The tombs are all indifferent unto me. The poor girl has no kinsfolk 'mid the dead, As on the earth no help or stay. For fourteen springs I've wept for thee, And longed to rest upon thy breast my head. Return, oh mother, that hast so long fled, I wait here by the stone; return, by pity led,
 * Where once in agony wild

Thou hadst forsaken thy poor child.