Bidding him dry his eyes and be of cheer.
'The death that took poor mother brings me near,
Nearer than we have ever been before,
Near as the dead one came, but dearer, more.'
'Good-night, my son,' said mother. 'Night,' he said.
He dabbed her brow wi's lips and blew the light,
She lay quite silent crying on the bed,
Stirring no limb, but crying through the night.
He slept, convinced that he was Anna's knight.
And when he went to work he left behind