My Mother
Who sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping on my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.
When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should die?
My Mother.
Who taught my infant lips to pray
And love God’s holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom’s pleasant way?
My Mother.
And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who wast so very kind to me,
My Mother?
Ah, no! the thought I cannot bear,
And if God please my life to spare
I hope I shall reward they care,
My Mother.
When thou art feeble, old and grey,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My Mother.
poem by Ann Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Cradle Song
Sweet dreams, form a shade
O’er my lovely infant’s head;
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams
By happy, silent, moony beams.
Sweet Sleep, with soft down
Weave thy brows an infant crown.
Sweet Sleep, Angel mild,
Hover o’er my happy child.
Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my delight;
Sweet smiles, mother’s smiles,
All the livelong night beguiles.
Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes.
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
All the dovelike moans beguiles.
Sleep, sleep, happy child,
All creation slept and smil'd;
Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,
While o’er thee thy mother weep.
Sweet babe, in thy face
Holy image I can trace.
Sweet babe, once like thee,
Thy Maker lay and wept for me,
Wept for me, for thee, for all,
When He was an infant small.
Thou His image ever see,
Heavenly face that smiles on thee
Smiles on thee, on me, on all;
Who became an infant small.
Infant smiles are His own smiles;
Heaven and earth to peace beguiles.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Song
Sweet dreams, form a shade
O'er my lovely infant's head!
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams
By happy, silent, moony beams!
Sweet Sleep, with soft down
Weave thy brows an infant crown
Sweet Sleep, angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child!
Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my delight!
Sweet smiles, mother's smile,
All the livelong night beguile.
Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thine eyes!
Sweet moan, sweeter smile,
All the dovelike moans beguile.
Sleep, sleep, happy child!
All creation slept and smiled.
Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,
While o'er thee doth mother weep.
Sweet babe, in thy face
Holy image I can trace;
Sweet babe, once like thee
Thy Maker lay, and wept for me:
Wept for me, for thee, for all,
When He was an infant small.
Thou His image ever see,
Heavenly face that smiles on thee!
Smiles on thee, on me, on all,
Who became an infant small;
Infant smiles are his own smiles;
Heaven and earth to peace beguiles.
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A painful passage
I wept and wept, endlessly wept,
Like of which I have never wept
Save at the time of my mother’s death,
While some sequences I read
Off the book ‘The Blind Assassin’
Of Ms Margaret Atwild, wherein
A little girl, by name, Griffen
Watches speechless the gaze of the mother,
Who is in sick bed, the little sister
Being away at play, quite unaware,
And the mother in her feeble voice
Beseeching her to take care of her sister,
To which she assuredly nods and weeps
At the impending end of her mother,
Without thinking who is there to take
Her own care or that what is in store.
I wept and wept, endlessly wept
As the two little sisters resembled
My two granddaughters, me their mother,
As though their mother is in death bed,
With fear of death looming over my head.
I wept and wept, recurrently wept
When I read, wrote and rewrote
The above passage many a time.
27.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Cry For You
Your eyes are glistening with unshed tears
I've watched you grow through all these years
I can't comfort you, I don't know how
Though I wish to stop your pain right now
You're tears are refused their right to shed
Your thoughts are locked inside your head
You are imprisoning all of your emotions
I watch you just going through the motions
Water from my eyes begins to dropp
Because I can't make your pain stop
You won't show weakness, you'd prefer to be dead
So during your pain, your tears for you I'll shed
poem by Lenore Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Mama, My Lovely Mother
When at infancy, I wee inside her food
She never stop eating
my mama, my lovely mother
When am ill and sad, healthy and happy,
She keep praying for me
my mama, my lovely mother
When I started crawling,
Tears of affection made her eyes heavy
my mama, my lovely mother
When I walk, her fear increases,
That I might go the wrong way
and get hurt
my mama, my lovely mother
When she look at me,
Her gaze always ask me,
How are you my child
my mama, my lovely mother
When am sick, it brings out
The doctor in her
my mama, my lovely mother
I never grow old for her tender love,
Oh! God bless my mother and make
Her proud of me
my mama, my lovely mother
poem by Michael Odor
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Metaphor
You stole my pure intention
You are the sickness in between
Let me in, I'll bury the pain
You taught me to be sad as you
You almost made me take it all
Let me in I'll bury the pain
You bend me and you shake me
You beg me then you break me
Let me in, I'll bury the pain
You made me feel like a sinner
Now you fear you'll die alone
Let me in, I'll bury the pain
The sickness that you are
A plague that made me starve
Do you think you can show me, how I got this far?
(x2)
I feel it's takin over
And everything falls dark
Break me open,
The desperate cry
The sickness that you are
A plague that made me starve
Do you think you can show me, how I got this far?
(x2)
song performed by by In Flames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh, mother...[O, mamă...]
Oh, mother, dearest mother, although you passed away,
Through all the leaves that tremble, you call me every day;
Above your holy grave, the autumn gentle breeze
Shakes off the withered boughs of the acacia trees,
Which seem to hum along with your forgotten voice...
You will be sleeping always, they always will rejoice.
The day I die, my darling, for me, please, do not cry
Instead, break from the lime tree a twig scratching the sky
And put it in the ground, somewhere beside my head,
Then wet it at the roots with all the tears you'll shed;
And when it grows, its shadow will be just like a veil...
I shall be sleeping always, its shadow will prevail.
But if we die together – it's possible, who knows? –
They shouldn't put our bodies in graveyards to repose,
But let them dig a hollow somewhere, on open land,
And in a single coffin to put us, hand in hand;
For ever you will settle your head upon my chest...
We shall be sleeping always, the open land will rest.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Why The Tears I Shed?
Why the tears I shed?
Hunger is around,
I'm well fed.
Why the tears I shed?
The fire has gone out,
Warm is my bed.
Why the tears I shed?
Love is without sense,
On me lies her head.
Why the tears I shed?
The living is on alms,
Aplenty is my bread.
Why the tears I shed?
Life seeks mercy,
More blessed is the dead.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Comfort
SPEAK low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet
From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low
Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so
Who art not missed by any that entreat.
Speak to mo as to Mary at thy feet !
And if no precious gums my hands bestow,
Let my tears drop like amber while I go
In reach of thy divinest voice complete
In humanest affection -- thus, in sooth,
To lose the sense of losing. As a child,
Whose song-bird seeks the wood for evermore
Is sung to in its stead by mother's mouth
Till, sinking on her breast, love-reconciled,
He sleeps the faster that he wept before.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Shoulder I Need
Need I nothing but a shoulder to prop,
To place upon my head, the tears to shed.
The tormenting existence, worries of life,
The cruel pangs of the heart are resolved,
To crumble, crush my soul, my existence.
And at these moment of plight you reside,
Far away in the distant, remote world.
Need I nothing but a shoulder to prop,
To place upon my head, the tears to shed.
I am agonized for I had been deprived of,
Nourishing, sustaining food love yesterday,
I am pained for loneliness stings me today.
I stand at the dismal spot helpless, forlorn,
Neither there is any comfort to rehabilitate,
The drab, deserted land, valley of the heart;
Nor anyone has remedy of my misfortunes.
Need I nothing but a shoulder to prop,
To place upon my head, the tears to shed.
No one has time to listen to the tales of miseries,
No eye possesses tears to mourn on my doom,
Those whom I loved more than my soul, my life,
Have lined up in the long row of the enemies,
Those whom I regarded my own averted the eyes.
Need I nothing but a shoulder to prop,
To place upon my head, the tears to shed.
I have concealed in eyelids my unloosened tears,
Whenever I get a chance, I shall bring along,
The lustrous gems to scatter at your feet,
While kissing with lips, caressing with cheeks.
Oh! Sweet my mild mother at present,
Need I nothing but a shoulder to prop,
To place upon my head, the tears to shed.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Rock My Cradle (Once Again)
Recorded by hank williams, sr.
Writer: johnn bond and billy folger
[c] far away from friends and loved ones
mid the [g7] storm, a soldier [c] lay
Gathered round him all his buddies
Raised his [g7] head, we heard him [c] say.
Theres a [f] lamp light in the [c] window
Where an [f] angel from a-[c] bove
Gently [f] rocked my baby [c] cradle
With such [g7] tender care and [c] love.
Mother [f] dearest, darlin [c] mother
It would [f] ease this awful [c] pain
If shed sing until Im sleepin
Rock my [g7] cradle once a-[c] gain.
neath the palms tonight hes sleepin
On an island far away
Tho the years pass on in sorrow
I still recall his words today.
Repeat 2nd and 3rd verse.
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Du Maurier
Two rocked his infant cradle as he slept,
And crooned for him their native lullabies.
One gave her sense of beauty to his eyes,
One taught his heart her smiles, the tears she
wept.
Each made him love her as the child his home,
And, mother-wise, reclaimed his wandering
glance:
Beloved England and beloved France,—
Each drew him, though, afar, he could not come.
In his imagination, fleur-de-lis
And English daisy blossomed side by side,
And dreams were his, lost transports to renew.
Half exiled wheresoe'er he chanced to be,
Like migrant birds his thoughts went soaring
wide,
Wooed onward by the vision of the True!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Ghost’s Petition
'There's a footstep coming: look out and see,'
'The leaves are falling, the wind is calling;
No one cometh across the lea.'—
'There's a footstep coming; O sister, look.'—
'The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes;
No one cometh across the brook.'—
'But he promised that he would come:
To-night, to-morrow, in joy or sorrow,
He must keep his word, and must come home.
'For he promised that he would come:
His word was given; from earth or heaven,
He must keep his word, and must come home.
'Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane;
You can slumber, who need not number
Hour after hour, in doubt and pain.
'I shall sit here awhile, and watch;
Listening, hoping, for one hand groping
In deep shadow to find the latch.'
After the dark, and before the light,
One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping,
Who had watched and wept the weary night.
After the night, and before the day,
One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping—
Watching, weeping for one away.
There came a footstep climbing the stair;
Some one standing out on the landing
Shook the door like a puff of air—
Shook the door, and in he passed.
Did he enter? In the room centre
Stood her husband: the door shut fast.
'O Robin, but you are cold—
Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white you
Look like a stray lamb from our fold.
'O Robin, but you are late:
Come and sit near me—sit here and cheer me.'—
(Blue the flame burnt in the grate.)
'Lay not down your head on my breast:
I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you
In the shelter that you love best.
'Feel not after my clasping hand:
I am but a shadow, come from the meadow
Where many lie, but no tree can stand.
'We are trees which have shed their leaves:
Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there;
Only I grieve for my wife who grieves.
'I could rest if you would not moan
Hour after hour; I have no power
To shut my ears where I lie alone.
'I could rest if you would not cry;
But there's no sleeping while you sit weeping—
Watching, weeping so bitterly.'—
'Woe's me! woe's me! for this I have heard.
Oh night of sorrow!—oh black to-morrow!
Is it thus that you keep your word?
'O you who used so to shelter me
Warm from the least wind—why, now the east wind
Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see.
'O my husband of flesh and blood,
For whom my mother I left, and brother,
And all I had, accounting it good,
'What do you do there, underground,
In the dark hollow? I'm fain to follow.
What do you do there?—what have you found?'—
'What I do there I must not tell:
But I have plenty: kind wife, content ye:
It is well with us—it is well.
'Tender hand hath made our nest;
Our fear is ended, our hope is blended
With present pleasure, and we have rest.'—
'Oh, but Robin, I'm fain to come,
If your present days are so pleasant;
For my days are so wearisome.
'Yet I'll dry my tears for your sake:
Why should I tease you, who cannot please you
Any more with the pains I take?'
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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So Sweet A Song
A golden star hung in the sky,
And sang to the child a lullaby.
So sweet a song, that the boy did sleep
Alongside the donkey and bleating sheep.
Fresh hay, so soft, was his cradle bed,
Within a cold and damp cattle shed.
And his Mother, in her deep joy, wept,
As vigil over here babe, she kept.
A golden star hung in the sky,
And shone so bright to signify
That here did lay a Holy King,
Who gives us life everlasting.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Blood Red Tears
Lighten up, give it up
I see a chance to make it up
Theres a price for every day
Youve just thrown away
I am all I ever was
Didnt change the way I was
Get a grip, button it
Cool down, hypocrite
Couldnt you find her? examine your head
Heres a reminder, blood red tears were shed
Didnt you need her? examine your head
Will you remember? blood red tears were shed
You dispose, I oppose
Couldnt you resist a go
You applaud your reward
I sit here alone
You agree to comfort me
Every day I try to leave
End of feud, your attitude
Worn there on your sleeve
Couldnt you find her? examine your head
Heres a reminder, blood red tears were shed
Didnt you need her? examine your head
Will you remember? blood red tears were shed
Couldnt you find her? examine your head
Heres a reminder, blood red tears were shed
Didnt you need her? examine your head
Will you remember? blood red tears were shed
They tell me to go, I lie that I know, he cries so unkindly
Couldnt you find her? examine your head
Heres a reminder, blood red tears were shed
Didnt you need her? examine your head
Will you remember? blood red tears were shed
song performed by by Olive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Reaper's Child
If you go to the field where the reapers now bind
The sheaves of ripe corn, there a fine little lass,
Only three months of age, by the hedge-row you'll find,
Left alone by its mother upon the low grass.
While the mother is reaping, the infant is sleeping;
Not the basket that holds the provision is less
By the hard-working reaper, than this little sleeper,
Regarded, till hunger does on the babe press.
Then it opens its eyes, and it utters loud cries,
Which its hard-working mother afar off will hear;
She comes at its calling, she quiets its squalling,
And feeds it, and leaves it again without fear.
When you were as young as this field-nursëd daughter,
You were fed in the house, and brought up on the knee;
So tenderly watched, thy fond mother thought her
Whole time well bestowed in nursing of thee.
poem by Charles Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Put The Fear In Here?
I watched a man tell his boy
About the pains of reality
Then I watched that child grow into a soldier
Defending contradictions and paving the way...
Who put the fear in here?
I watched a miracle in the making
Then had a scientist tell me that i
Couldnt live without breaking,
My habits of fearlessness and crying for the world...
Who put the fear in here?
Was it you, who finally shed the tear?
Someone told me that two lovers bound
Could put another sun in the sky
If you believed it, thered be
Twice the light and no one would be scared to fly
If I believed it, thered be
Twice the light and no one would be scared to fly
I thought I knew exactly what scared me
And I would never have to run again.
So I went to sleep and began dreaming
Of perfect lives in paradise
Woke up and started screaming...
Who put the fear in here?
Who put the fear in here? oh no...
Was it you who finally shed the tear?
Then who put the fear in here?
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Another's Sorrow
Can I see another’s woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief,
And not seek for kind relief?
Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow’s share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd?
Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird’s grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear,
And not sit beside the nest,
Pouring pity in their breast;
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant’s tear;
And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
O, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
He doth give His joy to all;
He becomes an infant small;
He becomes a man of woe;
He doth feel the sorrow too.
Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not near.
O! He gives to us His joy
That our grief he may destroy;
Till our grief is fled & gone
He doth sit by us and moan.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Passion And Love
A MAIDEN wept and, as a comforter,
Came one who cried, 'I love thee,' and he seized
Her in his arms and kissed her with hot breath,
That dried the tears upon her flaming cheeks.
While evermore his boldly blazing eye
Burned into hers; but she uncomforted
Shrank from his arms and only wept the more.
Then one came and gazed mutely in her face
With wide and wistful eyes; but still aloof
He held himself; as with a reverent fear,
As one who knows some sacred presence nigh.
And as she wept he mingled tear with tear,
That cheered her soul like dew a dusty flower, —
Until she smiled, approached, and touched his hand!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knowledge is Mother Of Life Divine!
Only of evils in own,
seeing the path of Goodness and Godliness,
Knowledge is not mother of fear,
But knowledge is mother of Care,
Against one's own fall or care about fall of others!
Knowledge is not mother of fear,
Knowledge is the spear,
Knowledge is spear that kills the fear,
And takes to fearless sphere!
`FEAR Is Mother Of
KNOWLEDGE.
Aye or Nay, you decide!
How can one born to fear can dare,
how can one see is own nature,
fear, if governs his mind and thought,
How one fear more,
Can open windows and door?
Fear is not the mother of love,
A child's love to its mother or father,
Is just Love And Respect,
Not fear the mother of all these,
Fear only maketh one run away from Father,
Love And affection take near to Him!
Knowledge is mother of Courage,
Love, faith, belief and aspiration of oneness!
Fear is mother of Cowardice, doubts, hate,
Fear is mother of all slips and fall,
Fear is the mother of ill fate!
Only Love, The love of truth, and love with True knowledge is the mother of Life Divine!
Aye or Nay you Decide!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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