<h3 id="The_Mother">The Mother</h3>
<p>LAST night he lay within my arm,<br/>
So small, so warm—a mystery<br/>
To which God only held the key—<br/>
But mine to keep from fear and harm!</p>
<p>Ah! He was all my own, last night,<br/>
With soft, persuasive, baby eyes,<br/>
So wondering and yet so wise,<br/>
And hands that held my finger tight.</p>
<p>Why was it that he could not stay—<br/>
Too rare a gift? Yet who could hold<br/>
A treasure with securer hold<br/>
Than I, to whom love taught the way?</p>
<p>As with a flood of golden light<br/>
The first sun tipped earth’s golden rim<br/>
So all my world grew bright with him<br/>
And with his going fell the night—</p>
<p>O God, is there an angel arm<br/>
More strong, more tender than the rest?<br/>
Lay Thou my baby on his breast<br/>
To keep him safe from fear and harm!</p>
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