Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1881-01-08
FROM EXILE.


"A Mother SpedLs.D
An. dear God. when will IT he day?
I canpot sleep. | cannot pray.
Tossing. | watch the silent stars
Mount up from the boron bars:
orion with mis- flaming sword.
PrpGd chicftain Of the glorious horde:
Anril,i up the lofty arch
Pur suing sta his stately march
So patier; and 50 calm are they.
All. dear God, when viii IL Ice day.
% Mary, mother! Hark hear
A cock crow through the silence clear,
The dayn's faint crimson streaks the east,
And. Hfar on. catch the least
Low murmur Of the city's stir
As she shakes OF the dreams of her!
List there's a sound Of hurrying feet
Far down below me in the street.
Thank God, the weary night is past
The morning comes-'tis day at last.
Wake Resale. Awake! arise.
The sun Is up, IL gilds the skies.
She does not stir. The young sleep sound
As dead men in their graves profound
Ho, hosalic. At last? Now haste.
To-day there is N" time to waste.
Bring me fresh water. Braid my hair.
Hand me the ginss. Once ! WAS fair
As thou art. Now look 50 old
II seems my deafh-kneil should be tolled.
Zip MOI II want no winel So pale?
Like n white ghost. so wan and frail?
Well. that's not strange. All night lay
Waiting and watching for the day
But-therci Ill drink IL: it may make
Ny cheeks burn brighter for his sake
Who comes to-day. My boy my boy!
How can bear the unwonted joyf-
j, who for eigh; long years have wept
While happier mothers smiling slept;
While others decked their sons first-born
For dance. or fete. or bridal-morn:
Or proudly smiled to see them stand
The siatelicst pillars OF the land
For he, So gallant and so gay,
As young and dctsunair a they.
MY beautiful, brs. re boy. my life,
Went down in the no squal strife,
The right or wrong! on. what care l!
The good God iudgeth up ON high.
And now lie gives him back 10 me!
l-tremhie SOL scarce can see.
How full the streets are, | will wait
His coming here beside this gate,
From which watched him as he went,
Eight years ago, to hanishInent.
Will sit down. Speak. Rosalie. when
You see n band of stalwart men.
With one fair boy among them-one
With bright hair shining in the sun,
tcd, smiling lips, and eager eyes.
Blue rs the blue OF summer skies.
Ny boy, my boy! Why come they nOts
q Son of God Hast Thou forgot
Thy Mother agCnyl Yet she,
Was she not stronger far than we,
We common mothersf Could she know
From her far heights such pain and woe!-
Run farther down the street, and see
IL they re not coming, Rosalie.
Mother Of Christ, how lag the hours!
WHAT just beyond the convent towers,
And coming straight this wayf - heart,
BE still and strong, aud bear thy part,
Thy new part, bravely. Harki hear
Above the city's hum the near
Slow tread OF marching feet: I see
Nay. 1 can MT see. Rosalie-
Your eyes are younger. l. he there,
My Antoine, with his sunny hair.
II is like gold: IL shines in the sun:
Surely you see IL; WHAT Not one
Not one bright head All old. old men.
Gray-haircd. gray-bearded, gauntr Then
then
He has not come-he is IN. or dead,
- God that were in thy stead,
My sonl my SOM Who touches meg
Your pardon. sir. | am not she
For whom you look. Go farther on
Ere yet the daylight shall be gone.
Mother" who calls me motacrl" You?
You are not henry Antoine. You
Are a gray-bearded man. and he
Is mere boy. You mistake me
For some one else. I'm sorry. sir.
God bless youi soon You will find her
For whom you seek. But l-ah. l.
stu must | call and none rcplyf
lou-kiss meg Antoinel o my SOM
Thou art mine own, my hanished one.
Julia &. X D,rT. III HdipeT's M0gdzine.