Home they brought her warrior dead: She nor swooned, nor uttered cry; All her maidens, watching, said, "She must weep or she will die." Then they praised him, soft and low, Called him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe; Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maiden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stept, Took the face-cloth from the face; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee, -- Like summer tempest came her tears, "Sweet my child, I live for thee." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FLAME LIGHTS UP by DAVID IGNATOW THE LEAVES OF THE TREE HIDE THE SUN by DAVID IGNATOW STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 4. NEW JERSEY by CLARENCE MAJOR THE LANDSCAPE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TOWARD THE GULF; DEDICATED TO THEODORE ROOSEVELT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |