HEARD you that piercing shriek -- the throe Of fear and agonising woe? It is a mother, who with wild Despairing looks and gasping breath, Thinks she beholds her only child Extended on the floor in death! That darling Babe whose natal cry Had thrilled her heart with ecstacy, As with baptizing tears of bliss Her nestling treasure she bedewed, Then clasped him with a silent kiss, And heavenward looked her gratitude: -- That darling babe who, while he pressed His rosebud lips around her breast, Would steal an upward glance, and bless With smiles his mother's tenderness; Confining laughter to his eyes, Lest he should lose the teeming prize: -- That darling Babe who, sleeping, proved, More than when waking, how she loved. Then was her ever watchful ear Prepared to catch the smallest noise, Which sometimes hope and sometimes fear Would liken to her infant's voice. With beating heart and timid flush, On tiptoe to his cot she crept, Lifting the curtain with a hush, To gaze upon him as he slept, Then would she place his outstretched arm Beside his body, close and warm; Adjust his scattered clothes aright, And shade his features from the light, And look a thousand fond caressings And move her lips in speechless blessings, Then steal away with eyes that glisten, Again to linger round and listen. Oh! can she bear to think that he Whom she has loved so tenderly, Her only earthly hope and stay, For ever should be wrenched away? No, no! -- to such o'erpowering grief Oblivion brings a short relief: She hears no sound; all objects swim Before her sight confused and dim; She feels each sickening sense decay, Sinks shuddering down, and faints away! Her child revives -- its fit is o'er; When with affrighted zeal it tries By voice and kisses to restore The mother's dormant faculties; Till nature's tides with quickened force Resume their interrupted course: Her eyes she opens, sees her boy, Gazes with sense-bewildered start, Utters a thrilling cry of joy, Clasps him in transport to her heart, Stamps kisses on his mouth, his cheek, Looks up to heaven, and tries to speak; But voice is drowned in heaving throbs, Outgushing tears, and gasping sobs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TURNSTILE by WILLIAM BARNES THE WELCOME by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS SCUM O' THE EARTH' by ROBERT HAVEN SCHAUFFLER ON CHLORIS WALKING IN THE SNOW by WILLIAM STRODE SONNET: 9. TO THE RIVER LODON by THOMAS WARTON THE YOUNGER GEORGE LEVISON OR, THE SCHOOLFELLOWS by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM EMERGENCY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |