The Mother’s Tragedy

THE MOTHER’S TRAGEDY 9 Of my old life; I sought another world. I ‘‘ got religion ””"—how I hate the phrase !— So jest the matron newspapers. The end. Since then I lived, as I am living still, Wrapped in the all-absorbing love of him My child, my child! And now my selfishness Is shamed, and I have made the sacrifice To give this pure heart to that maidenly, And let mine old age grow upon my hair, Finding my happiness in seeing him The all-devoted, and in God’s good pleasure Have little children playing at my knees, That I may listen, in their innocent prayers, For Jesus’ voice. And I will never break The secret of his being to my boy Lest he despise me. This one reticence I think my long-drawn agony may earn, For I will do without a mother’s name If only I may keep a son’s love still! [ Exe. SPIRIT OF TRAGEDY. She will not break an oath so wisely sworn, Unlock her secret to disdain. Wisdom is hers—what angel need to warn ? Since angels only seek to gain That wisdom of the unprofane. All future happiness I surely see. I am the Soul of Tragedy! Enter ULRIC.