Her baby brother laughed last night,
The blind child asked her mother why;
It was the light that caught his eye.
Would she might laugh to see the light!
The presence of a stiffened corpse
Is sad enough; but, to my mind,
The presence of a child that's blind,
In a green garden, is far worse.
She felt my cloth-for worldly place;
She felt my face-if I was good;
My face lost more than half its blood,
For fear her hand would wrongly trace.
We're in the garden, where are bees
And flowers, and birds, and butterflies;
One greedy fledgling runs and cries
For all the food his parent sees!
I see them all: flowers of all kinds,
The sheep and cattle on the leas;
The houses up the hills, the trees-
But I am dumb, for she is blind.