Mother, shed no mournful tears, But gird me on my sword; And give no utterance to thy fears, But bless me with thy word. The lines are drawn! The fight is on! A cause is to be won! Mother, look not so white and wan; Give Godspeed to thy son. Now let thine eyes my way pursue Where'er my footsteps fare; And when they lead beyond thy view, Send after me a prayer. But pray not to defend from harm, Nor danger to dispel; Pray, rather, that with steadfast arm I fight the battle well. Pray, mother of mine, that I always keep My heart and purpose strong, My sword unsullied and ready to leap Unsheathed against the wrong. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POETRY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SEPULCHRE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SOMEBODY LOVED ME by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO EMILIE BIGELOW HAPGOOD - PHILANTHROPIST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 2 by EZRA POUND |