BEING his mother,-- when he goes away I would not hold him overlong, and so Sometimes my yielding sight of him grows O So quick of tears, I joy he did not stay To catch the faintest rumor of them! Nay, Leave always his eyes clear and glad, although Mine own, dear Lord, do fill to overflow; Let his remembered features, as I pray, Smile ever on me! Ah! what stress of love Thou givest me to guard with Thee thiswise: Its fullest speech ever to be denied Mine own--being his mother! All thereof Thou knowest only, looking from the skies As when not Christ alone was crucified. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD MAN by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER THE LIGHT'OOD FIRE by JOHN HENRY BONER SONG OF MARION'S MEN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT WHEN DEY 'LISTED COLORED SOLDIERS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO HIS MISTRESS OBJECTING TO HIM NEITHER TOYING OR TALKING by ROBERT HERRICK THE FIRST BLUEBIRD by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY |