Volume I Part 21 (2/2)

(Dormi, dormi tu: The dusk is hung with blue.)

II

Lord Michael, wilt not thou rejoice When at last a little boy's Heart, a shut-in murmuring bee, Turns him unto thee?

Wilt thou heed thine armor well-- To take his hand from Gabriel, So his radiant cup of dream May not spill a gleam?

He will take thy heart in thrall, Telling o'er thy breastplate, all Colors, in his bubbling speech, With his hand to each.

(Dormi, dormi tu.

Sapphire is the blue: Pearl and beryl, they are called, Chrysoprase and emerald, Sard and amethyst.

Numbered so, and kissed.)

Ah, but find some angel word For thy sharp, subduing sword!

Yea, Lord Michael, make no doubt He will find it out:

(Dormi, dormi tu!

His eyes will look at you.)

III

Last, a little morning s.p.a.ce, Lead him to that leafy place Where Our Lady sits awake, For all mothers' sake.

Bosomed with the Blessed One, He shall mind her of her Son, Once so folded from all harms, In her shrining arms.

(In her veil of blue, Dormi, dormi tu.)

So;--and fare thee well.

Softly,--Gabriel...

When the first faint red shall come, Bid the Day-star lead him home, For the bright world's sake-- To my heart, awake.

Josephine Preston Peabody [1874-1922]

MOTHER-SONG FROM ”PRINCE LUCIFER”

White little hands!

Pink little feet!

Dimpled all over, Sweet, sweet, sweet!

What dost thou wail for?

The unknown? the unseen?

The ills that are coming, The joys that have been?

Cling to me closer, Closer and closer, Till the pain that is purer Hath banished the grosser.

Drain, drain at the stream, love, Thy hunger is freeing, That was born in a dream, love, Along with thy being!

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