Is not this enough for moan To see this babe all motherless -- A babe beloved -- thrust out alone Upon death's wilderness? Our tears fall, fall, fall -- I would weep My blood away to make her warm, Who never went on earth one step, Nor heard the breath of the storm. How shall you go, my little child, Alone on that most wintry wild? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHAM TOWERS AT DA NANG by KAREN SWENSON HOLY WILLIE'S PRAYER by ROBERT BURNS A CONSERVATIVE by CHARLOTTE PERKINS STETSON GILMAN DEAD COW FARM by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE DREAMER by SHAEMAS O'SHEEL GARDEN DAYS: 7. THE GARDENER by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE CROSS; TO THE MOTHERS OF THE MARTYRED DEAD UPON FIELD OF BATTLE by JOSEPHINE TURCK BAKER |