Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MY MOTHER'S HANDS, by ELLEN M. HUNTINGTON GATES


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MY MOTHER'S HANDS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
Last Line: I'll clasp my mother's hands!
Variant Title(s): Beautiful Hands


SUCH beautiful, beautiful hands!
Not wondrous white nor small,
And you, I know, would scarcely say
That they were fair at all.
I've looked on hands, whose form and hue
A sculptor's dream might be;
Yet are these aged, wrinkled hands
More beautiful to me.

Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
Though heart were weary and sad,
These patient hands kept toiling on,
That the children might be glad.
And I could weep, as looking back
To childhood's distant day,
I think how these hands rested not,
When mine were at their play.

Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
They're growing feeble now,
For time and pain have left their mark
On hands and heart and brow.
Alas! alas! the nearing time
And the lonesome day for me,
When 'neath the grasses, out of sight,
These hands will folded be.

But far beyond this shadow-land,--
And many a friend is there--
I know full well, these dear old hands
Will palms of victory bear!
Where crystal streams, eternally
Flow over golden sands,
And where the old are young again
I'll clasp my mother's hands!






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