An' how was a girl to know?

Well, the river is deep, and drowned folk sleep sound,
An' it might be the best to do;
But when he made me a light-o'-love
He made me a mother too.
I've had enough sin to last my time,
If 'twas sin as I got it by,
But it ain't no sin to stand by his kid
And work for it till I die.

But oh! the long days and the death-long nights
When I feel it move and turn,
And cry alone in my single bed
And count what a girl can earn
To buy the baby the bits of things
HE ought to ha' bought, by rights;
And wonder whether he thinks of Us . . .
And if he sleeps sound o' nights.



POEM: GRATITUDE



I found a starving cat in the street:
It cried for food and a place by the fire.
I carried it home, and I strove to meet
The claims of its desire.