Could she know, through the wall between us,
She is rocking on a heart.
While my empty arms are aching
For a form they may not press
And my emptier heart is breaking
In its desolate loneliness
I list to the rocking, rocking,
In the room just next to mine,
And breathe a prayer in silence,
At a mother's broken shrine,
For the woman who rocks her baby
In the room just next to mine.




"I DON'T CARE."

"I don't care," we hear it oft
And oft, the words are seeming fair;
But many a heartache lies beneath
A careless "I don't care!"

In every age, from every tongue,
The vain assertions fell;
But oh, trust not the cheating words,
For never truth they tell!
Hearts may grow sick with hope deferred,
Be crushed with black despair,
But lips, too proud to own defeat,