THE purest thing I know in all earth's holding Is mother love, her precious child enfolding; Yet when the mother's footstep feeble groweth, As sweet the child love then which round her floweth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN TO MONT BLANC [IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNI] by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE TO THE BOY by ELIZABETH CLEMENTINE DODGE KINNEY FOR [OR TO] THOSE WHO FAIL by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER TO - (3) by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE OLD HOKUM BUNCOMBE by ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD BEAUTIFUL LADY by SHEILA BARBOUR TIRESOME SPRING by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER |