<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384087" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>At Last</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">O mother, open the window wide<br>And let the daylight in;<br>The hills grow darker to my sight<br>And thoughts begin to swim.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And mother dear, take my young son,<br>(Since I was born of thee)<br>And care for all his little ways<br>And nurse him on thy knee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And mother, wash my pale pale hands<br>And then bind up my feet;<br>My body may no longer rest<br>Out of its winding sheet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And mother dear, take a sapling twig<br>And green grass newly mown,<br>And lay them on my empty bed<br>That my sorrow be not known.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And mother, find three berries red<br>And pluck them from the stalk,<br>And burn them at the first cockcrow<br>That my spirit may not walk.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And mother dear, break a willow wand, <br>And if the sap be even,<br>Then save it for sweet Robert’s sake<br>And he’ll know my soul’s in heaven.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And mother, when the big tears fall,<br>(And fall, God knows, they may)<br>Tell him I died of my great love<br>And my dying heart was gay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And mother dear, when the sun has set<br>And the pale kirk grass waves,<br>Then carry me through the dim twilight<br>And hide me among the graves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Elizabeth+Eleanor+Siddal">Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384087" data-title="At Last de Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal" data-description="O mother, open the window wide And let the daylight in; The hills grow darker to my sight And thoughts begin to swim. And mother dear, take my young son, (Since I was born of thee) And care for all his little ways And nurse him on thy knee. And ..."></div> </div> </div>

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