May I Not Weep With You
Let me come in where you sit weeping’aye,
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
Then– pressure round your neck’the hands you vised
To kiss’such arms’such hands’I never knew,
May I not weep with you?
Fain would I be of service’say something
Between the tears, that would be comforting,
But Oh! so sadder than yourself am I,
Who have not any child to die!
