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2. Our mother, who had leaned all day Over the bed from chime to chime, Then raised herself for the first time, And as she sat her down, did pray.

3. Her little work-table was spread With work to finish. For the glare Made by her candle, she had care To work some distance from the bed.

4. Without there was a cold moon up, Of winter radtance sheer and thin; The hollow halo it was in

Was like an icy cristal cup.

5. Through the small room, with subtle sound Of flame, by vents the fireshine drove And reddened. In its dim alcove

The mirror shed a clearness round.

6. I had keen sitting up some nights,

And my tired mind feit weak and blank; Like a sharp strengthening wine it drank The ■ stillness and the broken lights.

7. Twelve struck. That sound, by dwindling years Heard in each hour, crept off; and then

The ruffled silence spread again Like water that a pebble stirs.

8. Our mother rose from where he sat: Her needies, as she laid them down, Met lightly, and her silken gown Settled: no other noise than that.

9. „Glory unto the Newly Bom!" So, as said angels, she did say; Because we were in Christmas day, Though it would still be long till mom.

10. Just then in the room over us

There was a pushing back of chairs, As some one who had sat unawares So late, now heard the hour, and rose.

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