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...BONDAGE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BEFORE A STATUE OF ACHILLES by GEORGE SANTAYANA TWO WITCHES: 1. THE WITCH OF COOS by ROBERT FROST THE HIGHLAND LASSIE by ROBERT BURNS MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE EARL OF SOMERSET: FIRST SQUIRE (2) by THOMAS CAMPION |