The Mother’s Tragedy

THE MOTHER'S TRAGEDY You are not earthly. I have often thought The Virgin has some special care for you, And given of her beauty and her peace A special dower. Your thoughts are ever pure; Your soul in sweet communion with God! Why, you are crying ? CORA. You say this to me? O could you look within a magic glass, Holding my hand, such sights would come to you Beyond your knowledge—aye, beyond belief ! I am no saintly virgin wrapped in prayer, Nor is my life one river of clear water Drawn from the wells of God. You foolish child! My love for you you cannot understand, Nor the low motive—you have shown it me— Of this beginning of our talk. MADELINE. Say on! CORA, meaningly. Much less you understand the love I bear To Ulric! MADELINE gzves a little cry. Heart of Christ! it cannot be! | CORA. No, child; I tricked you. Is your secret out ?