Uncomforted

Lelloine! Lelloine! Don't you hear me calling? Calling through the night for you, and calling through the day; Calling when the dawn is here, and when the dusk is falling-- Calling for my Lelloine the angels lured away!

Lelloine! I call and listen, starting from my pillow-- In the hush of midnight, Lelloine! I cry, And o'er the rainy window-pane I hear the weeping willow Trail its dripping leaves like baby-fingers in reply.

Lelloine, I miss the glimmer of your glossy tresses, I miss the dainty velvet palms that nestled in my own; And all my mother-soul went out in answerless caresses, And a storm of tears and kisses when you left me here alone.

I have prayed, O Lelloine, but Heaven will not hear me, I can not gain one sign from Him who leads you by the hand; And O it seems that ne'er again His mercy will come near me-- That He will never see my need, nor ever understand.

Won't you listen, Lelloine?--just a little leaning O'er the walls of Paradise--lean and hear my prayer, And interpret death to Him in all its awful meaning, And tell Him you are lonely without your mother there.