Classic Poem

" FATHER! " — the trembling voice betrayed
The troubled heart; " Be not afraid, "
I softly answered — " Woe is me!
Dead unto all but misery!
And yet, a child of innocence
Is mine — a son unknowing whence
His origin — whom, unaware,
As with an angel's watchful care,
Thy gentle hand hath guided. Now
He waits the consecrating vow
Of priesthood; and to-morrow stands
A Levite, with uplifted hands
To bless thee. May a mother dare
To look upon that face, and share,
Unseen, the blessing of her son?
Deny me not. So be it done
To thee in thy last agony,
As now thou doest unto me! "

She had her will. Secluded there
Within a cloistered place of prayer,
She saw, and wept; then, all unknown,
Shrunk back into the world, alone.

Days passed. A winter's cheerless morn
With summons came. A soul forlorn
Craved help in danger imminent;
And, Christlike, on his mission went
The new anointed.

" Strange, " he said,
" The gleams, like inspiration, shed
Upon the dying! There she lay,
Poor reprobate! life's stormy day
In clouds departing. Suddenly,
As from a trance, beholding me,
" Giulio! hast thou come?" she cried,
And with her arms about me, died. "

He wondered; and I turned away,
Lest tears my secret should betray.