Alice Meynell
Reading edition
MATERNITY
One wept whose only child was dead
New-born, ten years ago.
“Weep not; he is in bliss,” they said.
She answered, “Even so.
“Ten years ago was born in pain
A child not now forlorn.
But oh, ten years ago, in vain
A mother, a mother was born.”
CHIMES
Brief on a flying night,
From the shaken tower,
A flock of bells take flight,
And go with the hour.
Like birds from the cote to the gales,
Abrupt—oh, hark!—
A fleet of bells set sails,
And go to the dark.
Sudden the cold airs swing:
Alone, aloud,
A verse of bells takes wing
And flies with the cloud.
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