THE BRETON MOTHER

It was a Breton Molher

Long widowcd and alonc

From lier brow the look of gladness'

From lier lips thesmilc was tfone;

But the light of Beauty lingered Despite the trace of tears, For lier gentle cheek was faded With sorrow more than years.

Her anxious gaze was resting On a proud and stately boy With a mingled sweet expression Half mournfulness, half joy; The fFidoWs look, confessing, Though sharp life, trial-pains, Ail is not Désolation While Molher-hood remains î

Fair was the face she gazed on,

Not only unto her,

( For love's bright wand of magie

Can unreal gifts confer)

But even to the stranger

À mien more bright and bold

Ne'er struck the dull and careless

Or warmed and won the cold.

Courage and though t were blended On his forehead proud and fair Around it careless waving