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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540149" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Mother's Return</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A MONTH, sweet Little-ones, is past<br>Since your dear Mother went away,---<br>And she tomorrow will return;<br>Tomorrow is the happy day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O blessed tidings! thought of joy!<br>The eldest heard with steady glee;<br>Silent he stood; then laughed amain,---<br>And shouted, ' Mother, come to me!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Louder and louder did he shout,<br>With witless hope to bring her near;<br>'Nay, patience! patience, little boy!<br>Your tender mother cannot hear.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I told of hills, and far-off town,<br>And long, long vale to travel through;---<br>He listens, puzzled, sore perplexed,<br>But he submits; what can he do ?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No strife disturbs his sister's breast;<br>She wars not with the mystery<br>Of time and distance, night and day;<br>The bonds of our humanity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her joy is like an instinct, joy<br>Of kitten, bird, or summer fly;<br>She dances, runs without an aim,<br>She chatters in her ecstasy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her brother now takes up the note,<br>And echoes back his sister's glee;<br>They hug the infant in my arms,<br>As if to force his sympathy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, settling into fond discourse,<br>We rested in the garden bower;<br>While sweetly shone the evening sun<br>In his departing hour.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We told o'er all that we had done,---<br>Our rambles by the swift brook's side<br>Far as the willow-skirted pool,<br>Where two fair swans together glide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We talked of change, of winter gone,<br>Of green leaves on the hawthorn spray,<br>Of birds that build their nests and sing<br>And all 'since Mother went away!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To her these tales they will repeat,<br>To her our new-born tribes will show,<br>The goslings green, the ass's colt,<br>The lambs that in the meadow go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">---But, see, the evening star comes forth!<br>To bed the children must depart;<br>A moment's heaviness they feel,<br>A sadness at the heart;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis gone---and in a merry fit<br>They run up stairs in gamesome race;<br>I, too, infected by their mood,<br>I could have joined the wanton chase.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Five minutes past---and, O the change!<br>Asleep upon their beds they lie;<br>Their buy limbs in perfect rest,<br>And closed the sparkling eye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Wordsworth">William Wordsworth</a><div class=q>
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<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=540149" data-title="The Mother's Return de William Wordsworth" data-description="A MONTH, sweet Little-ones, is past
Since your dear Mother went away,---
And she tomorrow will return;
Tomorrow is the happy day.

O blessed tidings! thought of joy!
The eldest heard with steady glee;
Silent he stood; then laughed amain,---
And sh..."></div>
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