NEVER again: <br />No child shall stir the inmost heart of her <br />And teach her heaven by that first faint stir; <br />No little lips shall lie against her breast <br />Save the cold lips that now lie there at rest; <br />No little voice shall rouse her from her sleep <br />And bid her wake to pain: <br />Her sleep is calm and deep, <br />Call not! refrain. <br /> <br />Close in her arm <br />As though even death drew back before the face <br />Of Motherhood in this white stilly place, <br />The gathered bud lies waxen white and cold, <br />As ever a flower your winter gardens hold. <br />She bore the pain, she never wore the crown, <br />She worked the bitter charm, <br />But all she won thereby is here laid down <br />Renounced--for good or harm. <br /> <br />Dream? Feed your soul <br />With dreams, while we must starve our hearts on clay, <br />Dream of a glorious white-winged sun-crowned day <br />When you shall see her once more face to face <br />Beside Christ's Mother in the blessed place! <br />But while you dream, they carry her from here, <br />The black bells toll and toll. <br />Oh God! if only she cannot see or hear, <br />Not hear those ghoul-like bells that crowd so near, <br />Not see that cold clay hole.<br /><br />Edith Nesbit<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-524/
