1828.] 
The Vision of Tears. 
The mother’s eye hath found 
Among those angel-children one, 
Her own—the death-dim child of sun. 
She comes with wild buds crowned, 
And every unnamed flower 
That courts the crystal shower. 
Along the golden ground, 
That seemeth not by footstep pressed, 
With many a seraph-sound ~ 
She moves more radiant than the rest, 
And side by side together glide 
The Mother and her Pride. 
But lo! the flame so bright before, 
The spirit-fire her fair child bore, 
It burneth in the sighing air 
A trembling token of despair. 
«* Ah! see, my lovely child, behold, 
Thy light, thy life, is quenched and-cold; 
The other torches bear no blot— 
But thine—it beameth not ! 
Some wind hath touched its holy flame, 
Some dew that from the desart came. 
Where nothing seems designed to fade, 
Why walk’st thou in the shade ?” 
Strange light is in the maiden’s eyes, 
Sad music in her tone. 
« Alas!” the virgin-victim cries, 
“ The shade by thee is thrown ! 
Thy tears, my mother, how they fall— 
In glee or grief the same ; 
Oh! weep them, mother, on my pall ; 
Those tears have dimmed my flame. 
Each still and solemn shower—each sigh 
Hath doomed my dazzling hope to die. 
These life-like fires that round thee shine 
Are sudden, sacred things ; but mine, 
Oh! mine was formed so sensitive, 
That whilst you weep it cannot live !” 
The mother hears the Voice, and wakes. 
The bright forms fade, the vision breaks ; 
But, like a bird, each breathing word 
Held music which her heart hath heard. 
She finds that oft our life depends 
Even on the tone, the glance of friends. 
She tends her child without a sigh ; 
She watches, and her eyes are dry, 
4D 2 
oe 
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