The whole round world is but a woman's child. Its childish instincts claim what mothers give, Maternal love, sweet, pure and undefiled It must have if its better self would live. Her tenderness, supreme in everything, The self-denial which all mothers own, The mother-thought of which the poets sing And other attributes by mothers shown. The whole round world of which we are a part Reflects our feelings be they good or ill, And what we own to our dear mother's heart The world doth own to God's Infinite will. And it receives from Him who gave it birth The same sweet tenderness and love which we Who can appreciate our mother's worth Enjoy and bless her for eternally. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE IN TWILIGHT by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE POET SPEAKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TRIFLE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 2 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH THE GULF by KATHERINE MANSFIELD CONSECRATED GROUND; READ AT THE NEW YORK CITY HALL by EDWIN MARKHAM |