And the setting sun has a sickly hue,
As if he foresaw the falling tears,
As if all the sorrows of earth he knew.

Heavily stealeth an hour or two,
And mid the noise of the city's din,
No one noticed the tenement room
"As two passed out where but one went in."

For, lieth a dead man behind the door,
Closed between him and the outer strife,
And a weeping woman and clinging girl
Look upon death, and look out upon life.

Almost fainting with suffering and grief;
Alone, unknown, in a stranger land,
Mother and daughter have knelt to pray
As men pray wrecked on a rocky strand.

Churlishly gloweth the charcoal flame,
Mother and child with hearts almost broke,
Clasped in each other's embrace of love,
Checking her sorrow, sweet Ethel spoke:

"Mother, my mother dear,
Weep not so hopelessly, though all is dark
We have our loving Father yet in heaven,
His eyes must be upon our shattered bark;
Our sails are torn and we are tempest driven,
Yet _He_ can hear.