Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539886" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Mother</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IT was April, blossoming spring,<br>They buried me, when the birds did sing;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Earth, in clammy wedging earth,<br>They banked my bed with a black, damp girth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Under the damp and under the mould,<br>I kenned my breasts were clammy and cold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Out from the red beams, slanting and bright,<br>I kenned my cheeks were sunken and white.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was a dream, and the world was a dream,<br>And yet I kenned all things that seem.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was a dream, and the world was a dream,<br>But you cannot bury a red sunbeam.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For though in the under-grave's doom-night<br>I lay all silent and stark and white,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet over my head I seemed to know<br>The murmurous moods of wind and snow,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The snows that wasted, the winds that blew,<br>The rays that slanted, the clouds that drew</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The water-ghosts up from lakes below,<br>And the little flower-souls in earth that grow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Under earth, in the grave's stark night,<br>I felt the stars and the moon's pale light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I felt the winds of ocean and land<br>That whispered the blossoms soft and bland.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though they had buried me dark and low,<br>My soul with the season's seemed to grow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From throes of pain they buried me low,<br>For death had finished a mother's woe.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But under the sod, in the grave's dread doom,<br>I dreamed of my baby in glimmer and gloom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I dreamed of my babe, and I kenned that his rest<br>Was broken in wailings on my dead breast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I dreamed that a rose-leaf hand did cling;<br>Oh, you cannot bury a mother in spring!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the winds are soft and the blossoms are red<br>She could not sleep in her cold earth-bed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I dreamed of my babe for a day and a night,<br>And then I rose in my grave-clothes white.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I rose like a flower from my damp earth-bed<br>To the world of sorrowing overhead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Men would have called me a thing of harm,<br>But dreams of my babe made me rosy and warm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I felt my breasts swell under my shroud;<br>No star shone white, no winds were loud;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I stole me past the graveyard wall,<br>For the voice of my baby seemed to call;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I kenned me a voice, though my lips were dumb:<br>Hush, baby, hush! for mother is come.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I passed the streets to my husband's home;<br>The chamber stairs in a dream I clomb;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I heard the sound of each sleeper's breath,<br>Light waves that break on the shores of death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I listened a space at my chamber door,<br>Then stole like a moon-ray over its floor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My babe was asleep on a stranger's arm,<br>'O baby, my baby, the grave is so warm,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Though dark and so deep, for mother is there!<br>O come with me from the pain and care!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O come with me from the anguish of earth,<br>Where the bed is banked with a blossoming girth,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Where the pillow is soft and the rest is long,<br>And mother will croon you a slumber-song–</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'A slumber-song that will charm your eyes<br>To a sleep that never in earth-song lies!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The loves of earth your being can spare,<br>But never the grave, for mother is there.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I nestled him soft to my throbbing breast,<br>And stole me back to my long, long rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And here I lie with him under the stars,<br>Dead to earth, its peace and its wars;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dead to its hates, its hopes, and its harms,<br>So long as he cradles up soft in my arms.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And heaven may open its shimmering doors,<br>And saints make music on pearly floors,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And hell may yawn to its infinite sea,<br>But they never can take my baby from me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For so much a part of my soul he hath grown<br>That God doth know of it high on His throne.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And here I lie with him under the flowers<br>That sun-winds rock through the billowy hours,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With the night-airs that steal from the murmuring sea,<br>Bringing sweet peace to my baby and me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Wilfred+Campbell">William Wilfred Campbell</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=539886" data-title="The Mother de William Wilfred Campbell" data-description="I

IT was April, blossoming spring,
They buried me, when the birds did sing;

Earth, in clammy wedging earth,
They banked my bed with a black, damp girth.

Under the damp and under the mould,
I kenned my breasts were clammy and cold.

Out from the..."></div>
</div>
</div>