To you, dear mother heart, whose hair is gray Above this page to-day, Whose face, though lined with many a smile and care, Grows year by year more fair, Be tenderest tribute set in perfect rhyme, That haply passing time May cull and keep it for strange lips to pay When we have gone our way; And, to strange men, weary of field and street, Should this, my song, seem sweet, Yours be the joy, for all that made it so You know, dear heart, you know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW TO BE A POET (TO REMIND MYSELF) by WENDELL BERRY ABANDONED RANCH, BIG BEND by HAYDEN CARRUTH NOT TRANSHISTORICAL DEATH, OR AT LEAST NOT QUITE by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SACHEM OF THE CLOUDS (A THANKSGIVING LEGEND) by ROBERT FROST SPECIAL EFFECTS by JAMES GALVIN CALLING DREAMS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON POETRY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE FRUIT GARDEN PATH by AMY LOWELL WAITER IN A CALIFORNIA VIETNAMESE RESTURANT by CLARENCE MAJOR |