Page:Maurine and Other Poems (1910).pdf/65

 Whether the love he felt one time was dead, Or only hidden, for my sake, from view. So when he came to me one day, and said, The velvet blackness of his eyes ashine With light of love and triumph: “Cousin, mine, Congratulate me! She whom I adore Has pledged to me the promise of her hand; Her heart I have already,” I was glad With double gladness, for it freed my mind Of fear that he, in secret, might be sad.

From March till June had left her moons behind, And merged her rose-red beauty in July, There was no message from my native land. Then came a few brief lines, by Vivian penned: Death had been near to Helen, but passed by; The danger was now over. God was kind; The mother and the child were both alive; No other child was ever known to thrive As throve this one, nurse had been heard to say. The infant was a wonder, every way. And, at command of Helen, he would send A lock of baby’s golden hair to me. And did I, on my honour, ever see Such hair before? Helen would write, ere long: She gained quite slowly, but would soon be strong— Stronger than ever, so the doctors said. I took the tiny ringlet, golden—fair, Mayhap his hand had severed from the head Of his own child, and pressed it to my cheek And to my lips, and kissed it o’er and o’er. All my maternal instincts seemed to rise, And clamour for their rights, while my wet eyes Rained tears upon the silken tress of hair. The woman struggled with her heart before! It was the mother in me now did speak, Moaning, like Rachel, that her babes were not, And crying out against her barren lot.