Page:Poems by Cushag.djvu/50

48 And then one spoke–“Ah, say not so
 * That sinless souls could thus be left

To suffer for another’s fault
 * Forever–of all hope bereft.”

“Such hapless souls might rather be
 * The nurselings of the saints on high,

And learn in gentler worlds than ours
 * The music of the earth and sky.”

“Alas!” he said, “Those little ones
 * Who unbaptised have breathed and died,

May never reach the highest bliss–
 * But still–the Father’s net is wide.”

“And you shall hear how this poor Babe
 * Was lifted from its grievous plight,

And, by the faith of two poor men,
 * Set free to reach the blessed Light.”

From Niarbyl Point to Bradda Head
 * The great Bay Mooar lies broad and deep,

And here the fishers cast their nets,
 * While landward folk are lost in sleep.