UPON us falls the shadow of night,
And darkened is our day!
My Love will greet the morning light
Four hundred miles away.
God love her! torn so swift and far
From hearts so like to break!
And God love all who are good to her;
For Christie's sake.

I know whatever spot of ground
In any land we tread—
I know the eternal arms are round;
That heaven is overhead,
And faith the mourning heart will heal;
But many fears will make
Our spirits faint, our fond hearts kneel,
For Christie's sake.

Good-bye, Dear! be they kind to you
As though you were their ain!
My Daisy opens to the dew,
But shuts against the rain!
Never will New Moon glad our eyes
But offerings we shall make
To old God Wish! and prayers will rise
For Christie's sake.

Four years ago we struck our tent;
O'er homeless Babes we yearned;
Our all—three darlings—with us went,
But only two returned!
While life yet bleeds into Her grave
Love ventures one more stake;
Hush, hush, poor Hearts! if big, be brave,
For Christie's sake.

Like Crown to most ambitious brows
Was Christie to us given;
To make our Home a holy house,
And nursery of heaven!
O softer was her bed of rest.
Than lily's on the lake;
Peace filled so deep each billowy breast,
For Christie's sake.

To music played by Harps and Hands
Invisible, were we drawn
O'er charmèd seas, through faëry lands,
Under a rosier dawn!
We entered our new world of love
With blessings in our wake,
While prospering Heavens smiled above
For Christie's sake.

We gazed with proud eyes luminous
On such a gift of grace—
All heaven narrowed down to us
In one dear little face!
And many a pang we felt, dear Wife,
With hurt of heart and ache,
All shut within like clasping knife,
For Christie's sake.

I would no tears might e'er run down
Her patient face, beside
Such happy pearls of heart as crown
Young Mother—new-made Bride!
For 'tis a face that, looking up
To passing Heaven, might make
An Angel stop, a blessing drop,
For Christie's sake.

If Love in that child's heart of hers
Should breathe and break its calm
With trouble sweet as that which stirs
The brooding buds of balm,—
Listening at ear of peeping pearl
Glistening in eyes that shake
Their sweet dew down! God bless our Girl;
For Christie's sake.

But, Father! if our Babe must mourn,
Be merciful and kind;
And if our gentle Lamb be shorn,
Attemper Thou the wind!
Across the Deluge guide our Dove,
And to Thy bosom take
With arm of love, and shield above,
For Christie's sake.

We have had sorrows many and strange.
Dear Christie! when I'm gone,
Some of my words will weirdly change
If she read sadly on!
Lightnings, from what was dark of old,
With meanings strange will break
Of troubles hid or dimly told
For Christie's sake.

Wife! we should still try hard to win
The best for our dear Child;
And keep a resting-place within,
When all without grows wild.
As on the winter graves the snow
Falls softly flake by flake,
Our love should whitely clothe our woe,
For Christie's sake.

For one will wake at midnight drear
From out a dream of death,
And find no dear head pillowed near;
No sound of peaceful breath!
May no weak wailing words arise,
No bitter thoughts awake
To see the tears in Memory's eyes:
For Christie's sake.

And There! where many crownless kings
Of earth a crown shall wear,—
The Martyrs who have borne the pangs
Their palm at last shall bear,
When, with our lily pure of sin,
Our homeward way we take;—
There, may we walk with welcome in;
For Christie's sake.