By: Jose La Villa Tierra

The night was dark, for the moon was young

And the stars were asleep and rare;

The clouds were thick, yet Youth went out

To see his Maiden fair.

“Dear One,”he pleaded as he knelt

Before here feet, in tears,

“My live is true; why have you kept

Me waiting all these years?”

“The Maiden looked at him unmoved,

It seemed, and whispered low;

“Persistent Youth, you have to prove

By deeds your love is true.”

“There’s not a thing I would not do

For you, Beloved,”said he.

“Then go,” said she, “to your mother dear

And bring her heart to me.”

Without another word, Youth left

And went to his mother dear.

And ope’d her breast and took her heart.

He did not shed a tear!

Then back to his Maiden fair he ran,

Unmindful of the rain;

But his feet slipped and down he fell

And loud he groaned with pain.

Still in his hand, he held the prize

That would win his Maiden’s hand;

And he thought of his mother dear

So kind, so sweet, so fond.

And then he heard a voice, not from

His lips, but all apart:

“Get up,”it said ; “were you hurt, Child?”

It was his mother’s heart.

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