English poem
ix
by Maurice Henry Hewlett (1861–1923)
He went before my load was quicken'd, And I lay in alone. He was not there when baby sicken'd, Nor when it was gone. I walkt with Mother to the church, With Mother and Fan, My hard eyes ever on the search— Pity me who can!
The grief was bad enough to bear, So dreadfully to wean it; But to go home and leave it there, And he had never seen it—! It was a thing to thank God for That home for me was none; I knew before we reacht the door That my home life was done.