MOTHER, with whom our lives should be, Not hatred keeps our lives apart: Charmed by some lesser glow in thee, Our hearts beat not within thy heart. Beauty, the face, the touch, the eyes, Prophets of thee, allure our sight From that unfathomed deep where lies Thine ancient loveliness and light. Self-found at last, the joy that springs Being thyself, shall once again Start thee upon the whirling rings And through the pilgrimage of pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THADDEUS STEVENS by PHOEBE CARY ILLUSIONS by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON L.E.L. by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNETS FOR PICTURES: A VENETIAN PASTORAL (BY GIOGIONE) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE CLOAK, THE BOAT, AND THE SHOES by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ACROSS THE SEA by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM AUNT CAROLINE by ANNYE LEWIS ALLISON THE INNOCENT MAGICIAN; OR, A CHARM AGAINST LOVE by PHILIP AYRES |