The Mother
- The mother soothes her mantled child
- With incantation sad and wild;
- A deep compassion brims her eye
And stills upon her lips, the sigh.
- Her thoughts are leaping down the years,
- O’er branding bars, through seething tears,
- Her heart is sandaling his feet
Adown the world’s corroding street.
- Then, with a start she dons a smile
- His tender yearnings to beguile.
- And only God will ever know
- The wordless measure of her woe.
This page has paths:
- "Bronze" by Georgia Douglas Johnson (1922) Amardeep Singh