Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MON REPOS (MY MOTHER'S GIRLHOOD HOME), by ALFRED BARRETT



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MON REPOS (MY MOTHER'S GIRLHOOD HOME), by            
First Line: The orange-tree you planted as a bride
Last Line: Are all I care to keep of mon repos.
Subject(s): Home; Mothers


The orange-tree you planted as a bride
At Mon Repos, long years ago has died;
And now the weeping willow, trailing low
Over the drive, is gone from Mon Repos.

There was a welcome in that willow's boughs,
Their sweep announced the hostess and the house:
The coachman and his pair no longer know
The feel of willow, entering Mon Repos.

Old friends who came there of a holiday
Were eager for the hostess' "Won't you stay?"
Discourteous Death to some has whispered "Go!",
And they have gone, and so has Mon Repos.

And all the loveliness we called our own
Has gone. Wistaria's fountain spray wind-blown,
Showering rose-fringed lawns with summer snow,
Has felt the touch of frost with Mon Repos.

The orange-tree you planted never grew.
Wistaria and willow pass. But you,
More dear than memories of long ago,
Are all I care to keep of Mon Repos.





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