Treasure Island

William Bell Scott

(1811-1890 / Scotland)

Elijah


The widow heard Elijah's tread,
She heard his staff against the door,
She wrapped the sackcloth round her head,
She took the small corpse from the bed
And sternly stood his face before.

Silent, as sleep-walking man,
He lifted from her breast the child,
And shut in his own cell began,
With tears that down his long beard ran,
The mystery,—God reconciled.

Mouth to mouth he gave the breath,
Eyes to eyes he gave the sight,
Limb to limb,—the child beneath
Quivered and began to breathe—
Trembled, cried out as in fright.

The mother hears outside the door,
Her one child is no longer dead,
She throws the sackcloth from her head,
She stumbles fainting on the floor,—
Lift the infant from the bed,
Let him his mother's life restore!

Submitted: Thursday, April 22, 2010
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