The Verse-Book of a Homely Woman

To a Little White Bird

     Into the world you came, and I was
          dumb,
       Because "God did it," so the wise ones
          said;
     I wonder sometimes "Did you really
          come?"
       And "Are you truly . . . DEAD?"

     Thus you went out—alone and uncaressed;
       O sweet, soft thing, in all your infant
          grace,
     I never held you in my arms, nor pressed
       Warm kisses on your face!

     But, in the Garden of the Undefiled,
       My soul will claim you . . . you, and
          not another;
     I shall hold out my arms, and say "MY
          CHILD!"
     And you will call me "MOTHER!"