I heard her crying in the night,--
So long, so long I lay awake,
Watching the moonlight ebb and break
Against the sill like waves of light.
I tried to close my eyes nor heed
And lie quite still--but oh, again
The little voice of fright and pain
Sobbed in the darkness of her need.
Strange shadows led me down the stair;
Creaked as I went the hollow floor;
I drew the bolt and flung the door
Wide, wide, and softly called her there.
_Ah me, as happy mothers call_
_Through the tender twilights to the gay,_
_Glad truant making holiday_
_Too long before the evenfall._
The garden odors drifted through,
The scent of earth and box and rose,
And then, as silently as those,
A little wistful child I knew.
So small, so frightened and so cold,
Ah, close, so close I gathered her
Within my arms, she might not stir,
And crooned and kissed her in their hold.
_As might a happy mother, when,_
_Aghast for some quaint, trifling thing,_
_One runs to her for comforting,_
_And smiles within her arms again._
All night upon my heart she lay,
All night I held her warm and close,
Until the morning wind arose
And called across the world for day.
The garden odors drifted through
The open door; as still as they
She passed into the awful day,
A little, wistful child I knew.
Think you for this God's smile may dim
(His are so many, many dead)
Seeing that I but comforted
A child--and sent her back to Him!