Ay, and if she spoke, maybe She would answer, like the Son, "What is now 'twixt thee and me?"

Dreadful answer! better none.

Yours on Monday, G.o.d's to-day!

Yours, your child, your blood, your heart, Called ... you called her, did you say, "Little Mattie" for your part?

Now already it sounds strange, And you wonder, in this change, What He calls His angel-creature, Higher up than you can reach her.

V.

'T was a green and easy world As she took it; room to play (Though one's hair might get uncurled At the far end of the day).

What she suffered she shook off In the sunshine; what she sinned She could pray on high, enough To keep safe above the wind.

If reproved by G.o.d or you, 'T was to better her, she knew; And if crossed, she gathered still 'T was to cross out something ill.

VI.

You, you had the right, you thought, To survey her with sweet scorn, Poor gay child, who had not caught Yet the octave-stretch forlorn Of your larger wisdom! Nay, Now your places are changed so, In that same superior way She regards you dull and low As you did herself exempt From life's sorrows. Grand contempt Of the spirits risen awhile, Who look back with such a smile!

VII.

There's the sting of't. That, I think, Hurts the most a thousandfold!

To feel sudden, at a wink, Some dear child we used to scold, Praise, love both ways, kiss and tease, Teach and tumble as our own, All its curls about our knees, Rise up suddenly full-grown.

Who could wonder such a sight Made a woman mad outright?

Show me Michael with the sword Rather than such angels, Lord!

A FALSE STEP.

I.

Sweet, thou hast trod on a heart.

Pa.s.s; there's a world full of men; And women as fair as thou art Must do such things now and then.

II.

Thou only hast stepped unaware,-- Malice, not one can impute; And why should a heart have been there In the way of a fair woman's foot?

III.

It was not a stone that could trip, Nor was it a thorn that could rend: Put up thy proud under-lip!

'T was merely the heart of a friend.

IV.

And yet peradventure one day Thou, sitting alone at the gla.s.s, Remarking the bloom gone away, Where the smile in its dimplement was,

V.

And seeking around thee in vain From hundreds who flattered before, Such a word as "Oh, not in the main Do I hold thee less precious, but more!"...

VI.

Thou'lt sigh, very like, on thy part, "Of all I have known or can know, I wish I had only that Heart I trod upon ages ago!"

VOID IN LAW.

I.

Sleep, little babe, on my knee, Sleep, for the midnight is chill, And the moon has died out in the tree, And the great human world goeth ill.

Sleep, for the wicked agree: Sleep, let them do as they will.

Sleep.

II.

Sleep, thou hast drawn from my breast The last drop of milk that was good; And now, in a dream, suck the rest, Lest the real should trouble thy blood.

Suck, little lips dispossessed, As we kiss in the air whom we would.

Sleep.

III.

O lips of thy father! the same, So like! Very deeply they swore When he gave me his ring and his name, To take back, I imagined, no more!

And now is all changed like a game, Though the old cards are used as of yore?

Sleep.

IV.

"Void in law," said the Courts. Something wrong In the forms? Yet, "Till death part us two, I, James, take thee, Jessie," was strong, And ONE witness competent. True Such a marriage was worth an old song, Heard in Heaven though, as plain as the New.

Sleep.

V.

Sleep, little child, his and mine!

Her throat has the antelope curve, And her cheek just the colour and line Which fade not before him nor swerve: Yet _she_ has no child!--the divine Seal of right upon loves that deserve.

Sleep.

VI.

My child! though the world take her part, Saying "She was the woman to choose; He had eyes, was a man in his heart,"-- We twain the decision refuse: We ... weak as I am, as thou art, ...

Cling on to him, never to loose.

Sleep.

VII.

He thinks that, when done with this place, All's ended? he'll new-stamp the ore?