I feel the dawn will never come, as if 'twere dead or slumbered; but
when at last he comes, I watch him touch the hillside, trees, and
temples with soft grey fingers, and bring to me a beauty one does not
see by day. The night winds pass with sighs among the pine-trees,
and in passing give a loving touch to bells upon pagodas that bring
their music faint to me. The dawn is not the golden door of happiness.
It only means another day has come and I must smile and talk and
live as if my heart were here.
Oh, man of mine, if but thy dream touch would come and bid me
slumber, I would obey.
Thy Wife.
36
They have put a baby in my arms, a child found on the tow-path, a
beggar child. I felt I could not place another head where our dear boy
had lain, and I sat stiff and still, and tried to push away the little body
pressing close against me; but at touch of baby mouth and fingers,
springs that were dead seemed stirring in my heart again. At last I
could not bear it, and I leaned my face against her head and crooned
His lullaby:
"The Gods on the rooftree guard pigeons from harm
And my little pigeon is safe in my arms."
I cannot tell thee more. My heart is breaking.
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