Whate'er is born of mortal birth Must be consumed with the earth, To rise from generation free: Then what have I to do with thee? The sexes sprang from shame and pride, Blown in the morn, in evening died; But mercy changed death into sleep; The sexes rose to work and weep. Thou, mother of my mortal part, With cruelty didst mould my heart, And with false self-deceiving tears Didst bind my nostrils, eyes, and ears, Didst close my tongue in senseless clay, And me to mortal life betray. The death of Jesus set me free: Then what have I to do with thee? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COMPANIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A SUBTERRANEAN CITY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE SLAVE MOTHER by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: 'EQUALITY OF SACRIFICE' by RUDYARD KIPLING IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 30 by ALFRED TENNYSON AUTHOR TO HIS CHILD by FRANCES AIRTH |