I LOVE old mothers -- mothers with white hair, And kindly eyes, and lips grown softly sweet, With murmured blessings over sleeping babes. There is a something in their quiet grace That speaks the calm of Sabbath afternoons; A knowledge in their deep, unfaltering eyes, That far outreaches all philosophy. Time, with caressing touch, about them weaves The silver-threaded fairy-shawl of age, While all the echoes of forgotten songs Seemed joined to lend a sweetness to their speech. Old mothers! -- as they pass with slow-timed step, Their trembling hands cling gently to youth's strength. Sweet mothers! As they pass, one sees again, Old garden walks, old roses, and old loves. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE GARDEN AT THE DAWN HOUR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS RICH DAYS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE CLOSING SCENE by THOMAS BUCHANAN READ THE VAGABONDS by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE THE GIRLS' LOT by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS PASTEL by MARSDON GILFORD ALBRITTON LADY OF CASTLENORE; A.D. 1700 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |