I’d in his bosom wept.—O God!
How had I prayed and wept!
“They bore him from me to the ship
As bearers bear the dead;
I kissed his speechless, quivering lip,
And left him on his bed—alas!
It seemed a coffin bed.
“Then, mother, little Charlie came,
Our beautiful, fair boy,
With my own father’s cherished name,—