Ада Кембридж (Кросс) (Ada Cambridge (Cross))

Awake

Calm as that moonbeam on the wall,
   Sleep broods on baby's eyes;
Arms, hush'd and still, but pulsing quick,
   Enfold him as he lies;
My brain is full of thronging thoughts,
   Strange passions thrill my breast,
My heart aches with a load of love
   That will not let me rest.

The dim years stand about my bed,
   They neither smile nor weep;
Like softest kisses, on my face
   The little fingers creep.
I hear slow footfalls, in the night
   Of fates upon his track,—
O love, I cannot let you go!
   I cannot keep you back!

Lord, let him shelter in my arms,
   Or take us both to Thine;
Or, if a troublous life must come,
   Make all the trouble mine:
Or let thy sharp swords pierce my heart
   To blunt them for the child,—
What care I, Lord, for stain and shame,
   So he keep undefiled!

Nay, Lord, I know not what I ask—
   I know not how to pray:
Hear Thou the crying mother-soul,
   And not the words I say.
Do Thou what seemeth good to Thee,
   So he be spared from sin;
And, oh! if love can aught avail,
   Let mine be counted in.

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