How is it with the child? ’Tis well; Nor would I any miracle Might stir my sleeper’s tranquil trance, Or plague his painless countenance: I would not any seer might place 65 His staff on my immortal’s face, Or lip to lip, and eye to eye, Charm back his pale mortality. No, Shunamite! I would not break God’s stillness. Let them weep who wake; 70 For Charlie’s sake my lot is blest: No comfort like his mother’s breast, No praise like hers; no charm expressed In fairest forms hath half her zest. For Charlie’s sake this bird’s caressed, 75 That death left lonely in the nest; For Charlie’s sake my heart is dressed, As for its birthday, in its best; For Charlie’s sake we leave the rest To Him who gave, and who did take, 80 And saved us twice, for Charlie’s sake. _John Williamson Palmer._ CCXCIV _THE LEGEND OF THE STEPMOTHER._ As I lay asleep, as I lay asleep, Under the grass as I lay so deep, As I lay asleep in my cotton sirk Under the shade of Our Lady’s Kirk, I wakened up in the dead of night, 5 I wakened up in my death-sirk white, And I heard a cry from far away, And I knew the voice of my daughter May. ‘Mother, mother, come hither to me! Mother, mother, come hither and see! 10 Mother, mother, mother dear, Another mother is sitting here: My body is bruised, and in pain I cry; On straw in the dark afraid I lie; I thirst and hunger for drink and meat, 15 And, mother, mother, to sleep were sweet!’ I heard the cry, though my grave was deep, And awoke from sleep, and awoke from sleep. I awoke from sleep, I awoke from sleep, Up I rose from my grave so deep! 20 The earth was black, but overhead The stars were yellow, the moon was red; And I walked along all white and thin, And lifted the latch and entered in, And reached the chamber as dark as night, 25 And though it was dark, my face was white. ‘Mother, mother, I look on thee! Mother, mother, you frighten me! For your cheeks are thin, and your hair is gray.’ But I smiled, and kissed her fears away, 30 I smoothed her hair, and I sang a song, And on my knee I rocked her long: ‘O mother, mother, sing low to me; I am sleepy now, and I cannot see!’ I kissed her, but I could not weep, 35 And she went to sleep, she went to sleep.