Across the room my silent love I throw, br Where you sit sewing in bed by candlelight, br Your young stern profile and industrious fingers br Displayed against the blind in a shadow-show, br To Dinda's grave delight. br br The needle dips and pokes, the cheerful thread br Runs after, follow-my-leader down the seam: br The patchwork pieces cry for joy together, br O soon to sit as a crown on Dinda's head, br Fulfilment of their dream. br br Snippets and odd ends folded by, forgotten, br With camphor on a top shelf, hard to find, br Now wake to this most happy resurrection, br To Dinda playing toss with a reel of cotton br And staring at the blind. br br Dinda in sing-song stretching out one hand br Calls for the playthings; mother does not hear: br Her mind sails far away on a patchwork Ocean, br And all the world must wait till she touches land; br So Dinda cries in fear, br br Then Mother turns, laughing like a young fairy, br And Dinda smiles to see her look so kind, br Calls out again for playthings, playthings, playthings; br And now the shadows make an Umbrian Mary br Adoring, on the blind.