Three years tonight since alone I sat
By a new-made grave all desolate
With the night dews o'er me falling ;
And I cried in my grief, 'Oh God !-My God !
What can it avail that beneath this sod
My babe lies deaf to my calling.'
The watchman cried on his round, 'All's well !'
But my heart at his mocking did beat and swell
With dread of a childless morrow,
But to-night he again is on his round
And his words to me have a sooth'ng sound,
For the years have brought me sorrow.
And have tanght me much 'twas hard to know
And made me reap where I did not sow,
And along strange paths have brought me.
They have shown me, too, in their painful round
That my girl is safe in the silent ground,
And this, too, faith hath taught me,
That I'll see her again in a radiant throng
Unsoiled by sin, unseared by wrong,
Amen! to the watchman's cry to-night
My heart re-echoes ' All's well : all's right.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.