Poetry of Kansas
 

Hannah.

"But Hannah had no children * * * there-
fore she wept and did not eat."
 
Wind of the night, it is almost
    dawning,
I bid thee peace, the stars are
    waning,
The moon sinks red and lone!
I hear a lost soul in thy fitful moan,
Pleading for rest.
Must I give comfort who am com-
    fortless?
 
Wind of the night, what soft tone
    in thy sighing
Reminds me of the child that never
    came ?
And on me rests the world's un-
    thinking blame
That it is not.
Night wind, who hast known my
    inmost thought,
Bear witness how I craved with all
    my soul,
With all the ancient instincts of
    the race,
Wrapped up in Being, purposeful
    but blind
As is thy force upon the silent rock,
O never silent, and far-searching
    wind.
 
Wind of the night, while the day
    is breaking
Bear thou my peace to sad hearts
    waking
The livelong night alone,
Weeping for children in thy plain-
    tive moan
That are no more.
O night wind who art sworn by
    Heaven's name
Have I mourned less the child that
    never came ?

__Elizabeth N. Barr.

The High Winds of Home
Elizabeth N. Barr
(Olathe: privately published. 1922)
Pages 31-32

 
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November 19, 2002 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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