_That is far to fare, mother,_
_Far and far to fare!_
_I come for thee to carry me_
_The way from here to there._

"Oh, hold thy peace, my little dead child.
My heart will break in me!
Thy way to God thou must go alone,
I may not carry thee!"

* * * * *

The cock crew out the early dawn
Ere she could stay her moan;
She heard the cry of a little child,
Upon his way alone.


THE CHILD ALONE: ROSAMUND MARRIOTT WATSON

They say the night has fallen chill--
But I know naught of mist or rain,
Only of two small hands that still
Beat on the darkness all in vain.

They say the wind blows high and wild
Down the long valleys to the sea;
But I can only hear the child,
Who weeps in darkness, wanting me.