William Barnes. 1801-1886
658. Mater Dolorosa
1 min to read
108 words

I'D a dream to-night   As I fell asleep, O! the touching sight   Makes me still to weep: Of my little lad, Gone to leave me sad, Ay, the child I had,   But was not to keep.

As in heaven high,   I my child did seek, There in train came by   Children fair and meek, Each in lily white, With a lamp alight; Each was clear to sight,   But they did not speak.

Then, a little sad, Came my child in turn, But the lamp he had,   O it did not burn! He, to clear my doubt, Said, half turn'd about, 'Your tears put it out;   Mother, never mourn.'

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William Barnes. 1801-1886
659. The Wife a-lost
1 min to read
193 words
Return to Hemingway's List for a Young Writer (1934)






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