Hagar to Sarah
Lover of children! Not for thee the laughter
—That of the worn heart makes a child again
Never for thee—not now—and not hereafter
That bliss, that pain.
A child within thee weeps to call thee Mother,
—When in the darkness Life and Death draw nigh,
And there is born another to another,
I hear it cry.
—That of the worn heart makes a child again
Never for thee—not now—and not hereafter
That bliss, that pain.
A child within thee weeps to call thee Mother,
—When in the darkness Life and Death draw nigh,
And there is born another to another,
I hear it cry.
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