I twisted it round in my shawl.
XXII And he moaned and trembled from foot to head,
He shivered from head to foot;
150 Till after a time, he lay instead Too suddenly still and mute. I felt, beside, a stiffening cold:
I dared to lift up just a fold,
As in lifting a leaf of the mango-fruit.
XXIII 155 But my fruit . . . ha, ha!?there, had been
(I laugh to think on't at this hour!)
Your fine white angels (who have seen
Nearest the secret of God's power)
And plucked my fruit to make them wine,
160 And sucked the soul of that child of mine As the humming-bird sucks the soul of the flower.
XXIV Ha, ha, the trick of the angels white!
They freed the white child's spirit so.
I said not a word, but day and night
165 I carried the body to and fro,
And it lay on my heart like a stone, as chill.
?The sun may shine out as much as he will:
I am cold, though it happened a month ago.
XXV From the white man's house, and the black man's hut,
170 I carried the little body on;
.
1090 / ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING
The forest's arms did round us shut,
And silence through the trees did run:
They asked no question as I went,
They stood too high for astonishment,
175
They could see God sit on His throne.
XXVI My little body, kerchiefed fast,
I bore it on through the forest, on;
And when I felt it was tired at last,
I scooped a hole beneath the moon:
iso Through the forest-tops the angels far,
With a white sharp finger from every star,
Did point and mock at what was done. xx vi I Yet when it was all done aright,?
Earth, 'twixt me and my baby, strewed,?
185 All, changed to black earth,?nothing white,?
A dark child in the dark!?ensued
Some comfort, and my heart grew young;
I sate down smiling there and sung
The song I learnt in my maidenhood.
XXVIII
190 And thus we two were reconciled,
The white child and black mother, thus;
For as I sang it soft and wild,
The same song, more melodious,
Rose from the grave whereon I sate:
195 It was the dead child singing that,
