MINE is the kiss of motherhood. Why fear The dusky regal splendour of my brows? As some great queen of persecuted house With many a lingering yearning kiss and tear Confides to lowly arms her princeling dear, Until the imperious martial music rouse The land to memory of its ancient vows,— With Life, thy foster-nurse, I hid thee here. Now would I wean thee softly from this Past That wrongs the erstwhile playmate of the stars; Forget those low dim hills, those pale pent skies. Hail! thou hast heired the Infinite at last; And kingly pleasures wait thee, kingly wars.— Come, gather godhead from my nearer eyes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO EVENING by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) A HYMN [TO THE NAME AND] IN HONOR OF SAINT TERESA by RICHARD CRASHAW SOMETHING BEYOND by MARY CLEMMER AMES HUDSON CELIA'S HOMECOMING by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON WHY DID YOU DEPART AT DUSK? by CLARISSA M. BAILEY |