In doubtful breast whilst motherly pity With furious famine standeth at debate, Saith th'Hebrew mother, 'O child unhappy, Return thy blood where thou hadst milk of late. Yield me those limbs that I made unto thee And enter there where thou wert generate. For of one body against all nature To another must I make sepulture.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STORIES ARE MADE OF MISTAKES by JAMES GALVIN THE PASSING OF THE EX-SLAVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE AWAKENING by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE WORD OF AN ENGINEER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 4. NEW JERSEY by CLARENCE MAJOR LITTLE BROTHER'S STORY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMESDAY BOOK: GOTTLIEB GERALD by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |