A Mother's Fear (1992)

The evening gathers all its shadows deep,...
Around the baby, like a heavy shroud,...
The pained little mouth takes on in sleep,...
A trait of sadness proud...

On day , most sweet and dear, full of repose,
A mother's voice rang over this cradle white,
Slowly, her fervent song of love arose,
Into the dusk of night;

Of smiles and hopes, it sang a wondrous lay,
In tender tones, as of a slender flute;...
Through the dim, quiet rooms it winged its way --
But, now that voice is mute.