Page:Rosalind and Helen (Shelley, Forman).djvu/25

Rh And crept with the blood through every vein; And hour by hour, day after day, The wonder could not charm away, But laid in sleep, my wakeful pain, Until I knew it was a child, And then I wept. For long, long years These frozen eyes had shed no tears: But now—'twas the season fair and mild When April has wept itself to May: I sate through the sweet sunny day By my window bowered round with leaves, And down my cheeks the quick tears ran Like twinkling rain-drops from the eaves, When warm spring showers are passing o'er Helen, none can ever tell The joy it was to weep once more!

I wept to think how hard it were To kill my babe, and take from it The sense of light, and the warm air, And my own fond and tender care, And love and smiles; ere I knew yet That these for it might, as for me, Be the masks of a grinning mockery. And haply, I would dream, 'twere sweet To feed it from my faded breast, Or mark my own heart's restless beat Rock it to its untroubled rest, And watch the growing soul beneath Dawn in faint smiles; and hear its breath, Half interrupted by calm sighs,