They chuckling said: “Your soul, grown blind
With anguish, is the shrieking Wind
That blows the flame that never dies
About his empty, lidless eyes.”
I tore them from my heart. I said:
“The life-blood that my son’s hand shed,
That from my broken heart outburst,
I’d give again, to quench his thirst.
“He did no sin. But cold blind earth
The body was that gave him birth.
All mine, all mine the sin; the love
I bore him was not deep enough.”
Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.