| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 962. My Father’s Child |
| | | By Gertrude Bloede (“Stuart Sterne”) |
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| ABOUT her head or floating feet | |
| No halo’s starry gleam, | |
| Still dark and swift uprising, like | |
| A bubble in a stream,— | |
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| A soul, from whose rejoicing heart | 5 |
| The bonds of earth were riven, | |
| Sped upward through the silent night | |
| To the closed Gates of Heaven. | |
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| And waiting heard a voice,—“Who comes | |
| To claim Eternity? | 10 |
| Hero or saint that bled and died | |
| Mankind to save and free?” | |
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| She bent her head. The voice once more,— | |
| “Didst thou then toil and live | |
| For home and children—to thy Love | 15 |
| Last breath and heart’s blood give?” | |
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| Her head sank lower still, she clasped | |
| Her hands upon her breast: | |
| “Oh, no!” she whispered, “my dim life | |
| Has never been so blest! | 20 |
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| “I trod a lonely, barren path, | |
| And neither great nor good, | |
| Gained not a hero’s palm, nor won | |
| The crown of motherhood! | |
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| “Oh, I was naught!” Yet suddenly | 25 |
| The white lips faintly smiled— | |
| “Save, oh, methinks I was mayhap | |
| My Heavenly Father’s Child!” | |
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| A flash of light, a cry of joy, | |
| And with uplifted eyes | 30 |
| The soul, through gates rolled open wide, | |
| Passed into Paradise. | |
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