<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413293" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>His Mother</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the first dawn she lifted from her bed<br>The holy silver of her noble head,<br>And listened, listened, listened for his tread.<br>'Too soon, too soon !' she murmured, 'Yet I'll keep <br>My vigil longer­ thou, O tender Sleep, <br>Art but the joy of those who wake and weep!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Joy's self hath keen, wide eyes. O flesh of mine, <br>And mine own blood and bone, the very wine <br>Of my aged heart, I see thy dear eyes shine!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I hear thy tread; thy light, loved footsteps run <br>Along the way, eager for that 'Well done !' <br>We'll weep and kiss to thee, my soldier son! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Blest mother I­ he lives! Yet had he died<br>Blest were I still, ­ I sent him on the tide<br>Of my full heart to save his nation's pride!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O God, if that I tremble so to-day, <br>Bowed with such blessings that I cannot pray<br>By speech­ a mother prays, dear Lord, alway</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'In some far fibre of her trembling mind! <br>I'll up­ I thought I heard a bugle bind<br>Its silver with the silver of the wind. '</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Isabella+Valancy+Crawford">Isabella Valancy Crawford</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=413293" data-title="His Mother de Isabella Valancy Crawford" data-description="In the first dawn she lifted from her bed The holy silver of her noble head, And listened, listened, listened for his tread. 'Too soon, too soon !' she murmured, 'Yet I'll keep My vigil longer­ thou, O tender Sleep, Art but the joy of those who..."></div> </div> </div>

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