In the first dawn she lifted from her bed br The holy silver of her noble head, br And listened, listened, listened for his tread. br 'Too soon, too soon !' she murmured, 'Yet I'll keep br My vigil longer­ thou, O tender Sleep, br Art but the joy of those who wake and weep! br br 'Joy's self hath keen, wide eyes. O flesh of mine, br And mine own blood and bone, the very wine br Of my aged heart, I see thy dear eyes shine! br br 'I hear thy tread; thy light, loved footsteps run br Along the way, eager for that 'Well done !' br We'll weep and kiss to thee, my soldier son! br br 'Blest mother I­ he lives! Yet had he died br Blest were I still, ­ I sent him on the tide br Of my full heart to save his nation's pride!' br br 'O God, if that I tremble so to-day, br Bowed with such blessings that I cannot pray br By speech­ a mother prays, dear Lord, alway br br 'In some far fibre of her trembling mind! br I'll up­ I thought I heard a bugle bind br Its silver with the silver of the wind.