The mother soothes her mantled child With incantation sad and wild; A deep compassion brims her eye And stills upon her lips, the sigh. Her thoughts are leaping down the years, O'er branding bars, through seething tears, Her heart is sandaling his feet Adown the world's corroding street. Then, with a start she dons a smile His tender yearnings to beguile, And only God will ever know The wordless measure of her woe. |