Page:Poems by Cushag.djvu/48

Rh So sad the lot of Babe unblest
 * That hath no home in heaven or earth,

But mourns in its cold winding sheet
 * About the place that gave it birth.

It may not reach to heaven above
 * It may not rest in earth below;

Nor with its lighted taper pierce
 * The limbo of its outcast woe.

The grey tide leaps upon the rocks,
 * The sea-mews rise and cross and wheel,

And ever as the darkness falls
 * The Babe weeps lonely in the Keeill.

And in its trailing winding sheet
 * Sobs o'er the broogh its piteous cry:—

"Oh, pity me! oh, pity me!
 * A Babe without a name am I!"