She tossed him into the fiery flood,
Her child, her baby, her flesh and blood.
And the crisp hissing waves closed round
And melted him through without a sound.
"Too quick for pain," they heard her say,
And she sobbed, once, and she turned away.
The Temple Bell, in peace and war,
Keeps the measure of sun and star.
But sometimes, in the night it cries