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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540166" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Sailor's Mother</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">ONE morning (raw it was and wet---<br> A foggy day in winter time)<br> A Woman on the road I met,<br> Not old, though something past her prime:<br> Majestic in her person, tall and straight;<br>And like a Roman matron's was her mien and gait.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The ancient spirit is not dead;<br> Old times, thought I, are breathing there;<br> Proud was I that my country bred<br> Such strength, a dignity so fair:<br> She begged an alms, like one in poor estate;<br>I looked at her again, nor did my pride abate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When from these lofty thoughts I woke,<br> 'What is it,' said I, 'that you bear,<br> Beneath the covert of your Cloak,<br> Protected from this cold damp air? '<br> She anwered, soon as she the question heard,<br>'A simple burthen, Sir, a little Singing-bird.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And, thus continuing, she said,<br> 'I had a Son, who many a day<br> Sailed on the seas, but he is dead;<br> In Denmark he was cast away:<br> And I have travelled weary miles to see<br>If aught which he had owned might still remain for me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The bird and cage they both were his:<br> 'Twas my Son's bird; and neat and trim<br> He kept it: many voyages<br> The singing-bird had gone with him;<br> When last he sailed, he left the bird behind;<br>From bodings, as might be, that hung upon his mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> He to a fellow-lodger's care<br> Had left it, to be watched and fed,<br> And pipe its song in safety;---there<br> I found it when my Son was dead;<br> And now, God help me for my little wit!<br>I bear it with me, Sir;---he took so much delight in it.'</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=540166" data-title="The Sailor's Mother de William Wordsworth" data-description="ONE morning (raw it was and wet---
 A foggy day in winter time)
 A Woman on the road I met,
 Not old, though something past her prime:
 Majestic in her person, tall and straight;
And like a Roman matron's was her mien and gait.

 The ancient spiri..."></div>
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