| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 1138. Bereaved |
| | | By James Whitcomb Riley |
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| LET me come in where you sit weeping,—ay, | |
| Let me, who have not any child to die, | |
| Weep with you for the little one whose love | |
| I have known nothing of. | |
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| The little arms that slowly, slowly loosed | 5 |
| Their pressure round your neck; the hands you used | |
| To kiss.—Such arms—such hands I never knew. | |
| May I not weep with you? | |
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| Fain would I be of service—say some thing, | |
| Between the tears, that would be comforting,— | 10 |
| But ah! so sadder than yourselves am I, | |
| Who have no child to die. | |
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