THE ABBEY SWALLOWS.
Reading edition
The year was late, the days were cold, The swallows long had gone, Two only by the Abbey door Still doubting lingered on. They hovered, wheeling round and round, Beside the porch in fear, And as they lighted on the ground A little child drew near. Close to her feet the swallows came, And twittered gay and glad, She broke her little crust for them— It was the last she had. Then blithe and gay they flew away, She to her corner crept; There was no one now in the world to care Whether she smiled or wept. With summer back the swallows came, Flew to the Abbey door, But no one stood to watch for them, The child was there no more. She had gone away on the angels’ wings, No more in the world to roam, For the love that she gave those helpless things, She has found in her Heavenly Home.
