Bridgeton Pioneer

Donald, I but have my baby back again
From the dim vastness of the great unknown,
How would it ease my poor heart's silent pain
As I sit here in shadow and alone!
That heaven is vast
but makes me more afraid,
Who shall its hesitating footsteps guide?
Far cozier the nest my love had made.
Or so my heart feels, since my baby died.
Cold was the night it left my bosom warm—
A night of wintry tempest harsh and wild
Into that world of darkness and of storm
Went forth alone my little toddling child.
I say alone, for who hears angels' feet
Pause at the threshold, though we dream they come?
We hear not even death, the robber fleet!
We only know a void is in our home.
Mother! the very name is sorrow's own.
A synonym for heartache and for trial:
'Tis she must tread the wine press all alone.
And when the tears would start must wear a smile.
What is the faith of priest, of Christian brother,
Of mitered bishop, though they kiss the rod?
Weak seems their worship when a trusting mother
Yields up her pretty, smiling babe to God.
-Arkansas Traveler.