She had been ill for years and years; She sent for me to say something. She couldn’t say what she wanted Because of the tears that kept coming of themselves. “I have burdened you with orphan children, With orphan children two or three. Don’t let our children go hungry or cold; If they do wrong, don’t slap or beat them. When you take out the baby, rock it in your arms. Don’t forget to do that.” Last she said, “When I carried them in my arms they had no clothes And now their jackets have no linings.” [_She dies._ I shut the doors and barred the windows And left the motherless children. When I got to the market and met my friends, I wept. I sat down and could not go with them. I asked them to buy some cakes for my children. In the presence of my friends I sobbed and cried. I tried not to grieve, but sorrow would not cease. I felt in my pocket and gave my friends some money. When I got home I found my children Calling to be taken into their mother’s arms. I walked up and down in the empty room This way and that a long while.