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She fell
asleep on Christmas Eve:
At length the long-ungranted
shade
Of weary eyelids overweighed
The pain nought
else might yet relieve.
Our mother, who had
leaned all day
Over the bed from chime to chime,
Then raised herself for the first time,
And as she
sat her down, did pray.
Her little work-table was
spread
With work to finish. For the glare
Made by
her candle, she had care
To work some distance from
the bed.
Without, there was a cold moon up,
Of
winter radiance sheer and thin;
The hollow halo it
was in
Was like an icy crystal cup.
Through
the small room, with subtle sound
Of flame, by vents
the fireshine drove
And reddened. In its dim alcove
The mirror shed a clearness round.
I had been
sitting up some nights,
And my tired mind felt weak
and blank;
Like a sharp strengthening wine it drank
The stillness and the broken lights.
Twelve
struck. That sound, by dwindling years
Heard in each
hour, crept off; and then
The ruffled silence spread
again,
Like water that a pebble stirs.
Our
mother rose from where she sat:
Her needles, as she
laid them down,
Met lightly, and her silken gown
Settled: no other noise than that.
"Glory unto
the Newly Born!"
So, as said angels, she did say;
Because we were in Christmas Day,
Though it would
still be long till morn.
Just then in the room
over us
There was a pushing back of chairs,
As
some who had sat unawares
So late, now heard the
hour, and rose.
With anxious softly-stepping
haste
Our mother went where Margaret lay,
Fearing
the sounds o'erhead -should they
Have broken her long
watched-for rest!
She stooped an instant, calm,
and turned;
But suddenly turned back again
And all
her features seemed in pain
With woe, and her eyes
gazed and yearned.
For my part, I but hid my
face,
And held my breath, and spoke no word:
There
was none spoken; but I heard
The silence for a little
space.
Our mother bowed herself and wept:
And
both my arms fell, and I said,
"God knows I knew that
she was dead."
And there, all white, my sister slept.
Then kneeling, upon Christmas Morn
A little after
twelve o'clock,
We said, ere the first quarter
struck,
"Christ's blessing on the newly born!"
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