Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By James WhitcombRiley

1138 Bereaved

LET me come in where you sit weeping,—ay,

Let me, who have not any child to die,

Weep with you for the little one whose love

I have known nothing of.

The little arms that slowly, slowly loosed

Their pressure round your neck; the hands you used

To kiss.—Such arms—such hands I never knew.

May I not weep with you?

Fain would I be of service—say some thing,

Between the tears, that would be comforting,—

But ah! so sadder than yourselves am I,

Who have no child to die.