I was sitting in the parlor
With my Sweetheart on my knee,
And the fireplace lights and shadows
Silhouetted her and me.
Heavy grew she towards the morning,
When the gold-fringed sunbeams leap:
_She_ was wide awake as ever
But my leg was fast asleep.
Flesh is weak and so I shifted
My loved load, as best I could,
From the numb knee to the other;
From the leg of flesh to wood.
Then I felt my Sweetheart shiver,
And I realized her state
When she drew a white-ash sliver
From the leg _articulate_.