Enlisted Today
I know the sun shines, and the lilacs are blowing,
And the summer sends kisses by beautiful May -
Oh! to see all the treasures the spring is bestowing,
And think my boy Willie enlisted today.
It seems but a day since at twilight, low humming,
I rocked him to sleep with his cheek upon mine,
While Robby, the four-year old, watched for the coming
Of father, adown the street's indistinct line.
It is many a year since my Harry departed,
To come back no more in the twilight or dawn:
And Robby grew weary of watching, and started
Alone on the journey his father had gone.
It is many a year - and this afternoon sitting
At Robby's old window, I heard the band play,
And suddenly ceased dreaming over my knitting,
To recollect Willie is twenty today.
And that, standing beside him this soft May-day morning,
And the sun making gold of his wreathed cigar smoke,
I saw in his sweet eyes and lips a faint warning,
And choked down the tears when he eagerly spoke:
'Dear mother, you know how these Northmen are crowing,
They would trample the rights of the South in the dust,
The boys are all fire; and they wish I were going -'
He stopped, but his eyes said. 'Oh, say if I must!'
I smiled on the boy, though my heart it seemed breaking,
My eyes filled with tears, so I turned them away,
And answered him, 'Willie, 'tis well you are waking -
Go, act as your father would bid you, today!'
I sit in the window, and see the flags flying,
And drearily list to the roll of the drum,
And smother the pain in my heart that is lying
And bid all the fears in my bosom be dumb.
I shall sit in the window when summer is lying
Out over the fields, and the honey-bee's hum
Lulls the rose at the porch from her tremulous sighing,
And watch for the face of my darling to come.
And if he should fall -his young life he has given
For freedom's sweet sake; and for me, I will pray
Once more with my Harry and Robby in Heaven
To meet the dear boy who enlisted today.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Watching For Pa
Three little forms in the twilight gray,
Searching the shadows across the way;
Two pair of black eyes, and one of blue --
Brimful of love, and of mischief too;
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
May, with her placid and thoughtful brow,
Beaming with kindness and love just now;
Willie the youngest, in anguish did lay,
Stealing sly kisses from sister May,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Nellie, with ringlets of sunny hue,
Cosily nested between the two;
Pressing her cheeks to the window pane,
Wishing the absent one home again.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Now there are shouts from the window seat;
There is a patter of childish feet;
Gaily they rush through the lighted hall --
"Coming at last" is the joyful call.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Down On The Corner (feat. Lance Diamond)
Early on the evening, just about suppertime
Over by the courthouse, they're startin' to unwind
Poor kids on the corner tryin' to bring you up
Willie picks a tune out and he knows they gonna start
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the Poor Boys are playin'
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Johnny hits the washboard, people just gotta smile
Robby thumbs a gut-bass and solos for a while
Poor boy brings the rhythm on his kalamazoo
And Willie goes into a dance doubles on kazoo, hey!
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the Poor Boys are playin'
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the Poor Boys are playin'
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the Poor Boys are playin'
Bring a nickel tap your feet
You don't need a penny just to hang around
But if you got a nickel won't ya lay your money down
Over on the corner there's a happy noise
People come from all around to watch the magic boy
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the Poor Boys are playin'
Bring a nickel tap your feet
[fade out
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down On The Corner
Early on the evening, just about suppertime
Over by the courthouse, theyre startin to unwind
Poor kids on the corner tryin to bring you up
Willie picks a tune out and he knows they gonna start
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the poor boys are playin
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Johnny hits the washboard, people just gotta smile
Robby thumbs a gut-bass and solos for a while
Poor boy brings the rhythm on his kalamazoo
And willie goes into a dance doubles on kazoo, hey!
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the poor boys are playin
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the poor boys are playin
Bring a nickel tap your feet
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the poor boys are playin
Bring a nickel tap your feet
You dont need a penny just to hang around
But if you got a nickel wont ya lay your money down
Over on the corner theres a happy noise
People come from all around to watch the magic boy
Down on the corner
Out in the street
Willie and the poor boys are playin
Bring a nickel tap your feet
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By The Alma River
WILLIE, fold your little hands;
Let it drop, that 'soldier' toy:
Look where father's picture stands,--
Father, who here kissed his boy
Not two months since,--father kind,
Who this night may--Never mind
Mother's sob, my Willie dear,
Call aloud that He may hear
Who is God of battles, say,
'O, keep father safe this day
By the Alma river.'
Ask no more, child. Never heed
Either Russ, or Frank, or Turk,
Right of nations or of creed,
Chance-poised victory's bloody work:
Any flag i' the wind may roll
On thy heights, Sebastopol;
Willie, all to you and me
Is that spot, where'er it be,
Where he stands--no other word!
Stands--God sure the child's prayer heard--
By the Alma river.
Willie, listen to the bells
Ringing through the town to-day.
That's for victory. Ah, no knells
For the many swept away,--
Hundreds--thousands! Let us weep,
We who need not,--just to keep
Reason steady in my brain
Till the morning comes again,
Till the third dread morning tell
Who they were that fought and fell
By the Alma river.
Come, we'll lay us down, my child,
Poor the bed is, poor and hard;
Yet thy father, far exiled,
Sleeps upon the open sward,
Dreaming of us two at home:
Or beneath the starry dome
Digs out trenches in the dark,
Where he buries--Willie, mark--
Where he buries those who died
Fighting bravely at his side
By the Alma river.
Willie, Willie, go to sleep,
God will keep us, O my boy;
He will make the dull hours creep
Faster, and send news of joy,
When I need not shrink to meet
Those dread placards in the street,
Which for weeks will ghastly stare
In some eyes--Child, sy thy prayer
Once again; a different one:
Say, 'O God, Thy will be done
By the Alma river.'
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Affirmations(2002-2004)
Today, I will get up before my alarm
Today, I won't close my eyes until dusk
Today, I will not get a speeding ticket
Today, I will count this day as a first
Today, I will enjoy the life that has been left to me
Today, I won't frown over the may-have-beens
Today, I won't cry over the should-have-beens
Today, I won't wonder about the could-have-beens
Today, I'll smile.......Today, I'll Laugh.... Today, I'll relax
Today, I won't feel alone because I don't see you
Today, I'll find something new that wasn't true of you
Today, I won't be afraid to look upon a new face
Today, I'll step up and take my place
Today, I won't think about what I've lost
Today, I'll look forward instead of behind
Today, I'll find some piece of mind
Today, I'll hope.... Today, I'll pray... Today, I'll believe
Today, I'll dream as if I always did
Today, I'll wish on a star the way I used to
Today, I'll reach for the heavens and sigh
Today, My heart will start to heal
Today, the biggest miracle is ME.
Today, Yesterday's problems ceased to be
Today, the rain has stopped and the sun has returned
Today, the breath of kindness is found in words
Today, I wonder.... Today, I am a child.
poem by Lillian B. Rose
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Father, Can you see me?
Can You See Me Father?
Father, can you see me?
Father, can you help me through this night?
Father, are you with me?
I look up at the sky, and wonder why, I feel so alone now...
Father, will you help me?
Im afraid to close my eyes.
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, if I sleep now, will you be watching over me this night?
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, the world I see is so much larger, than I remember when you were here with me.
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, can you help me stand own my own two feet once more?
Father, Im on my knees, looking at the sky, looking for your eyes.
Father, I've lost my way, Lord, I pray for your guidance once more.
Father, what was your will, Lord, it was not mine.
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, as I pray for your will, please come and show me the way, dear Lord I pray.
Amen
poem by Rose Rosado
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I Loved A Man
(elton john/ george martin - lyrics based on the works of dylan thomas )
Producers for bonnie: george martin
Recorded in 1988 for george martin's production of dylan thomas's play 'under milk wood'. bonnie guested with a host of other welsh stars, including anthony hopkins and tom jones. lyrics taken from careful listening.
I loved a man who's name was tom
He's strong as a bear and two yards long
I loved a man who's name was dick
He was big as a barrel and three feet thick
And i loved a man who's name was harry
Six feet tall and sweet as a cherry
But the one i love best, awake or asleep
Was little willie wee, and he's six feet deep
Oh tom, dick and harry were three fine men
And i'll never have such loving again
Little willie wee who took me on his knee
Little willie weasel was the man for me
Now men from every parish 'round
Run after me and roll me on the ground
But whenever i love another man back
Johnny from the hill, or sailing jack
I always think as they do what they please
Of tom, dick and harry who are tall as trees
But most i think when i'm by their side
Of little willie wee who downed and died
Oh tom, dick and harry were three fine men
And i'll never have such loving again
Little willie wee who took me on his knee
Little willie weasel was the man for me
Little willie weasel was the man for me
(the following is a reprise featured later)
Now when farmers boys on the first fair day
Come down from the hills to drink and be gay
Before the sun sinks, i lie there in their arms
For they're good bad boys from the lonely farms
And i always think as we tumble into bed
Of little willie wee, who's dead, dead, dead
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If Not
If not for my Father, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Mother, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Teachers, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Brothers, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Sisters, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Spouse Dear, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Children, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Good Deeds, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Talents, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Hard Work, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Blessings, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Country, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Dear GOD, would I be what I am today?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-12-2004
poem by John Celes
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Morning Drizzle
Today
If you find out the rain is rattling outside
Don't put your blanket on
And sleeping again
Today
If you find out the wind doesn't stop whistle
Don't close your ears with your hands
And hide your fears
It's just morning drizzle
It's just shower from the sky
That waking this world
From cold winter time
Today
If you find out the sky is grey
Don't you hesitant to go outside
And ruin your perfect day
Today
If you don't see the sunlight shines bright
Don't keep your mourning
And forget to smile
It's just morning drizzle
It's just a mighty spray
That splashes you warning
In your joy of spring
Today
If you find out the cloud doesn't disperse
Don't keep the loneliness inside
Behind the dusty window
Today
If you find out the damp street
Don't let your mood darkening
And grudging over the muddy puddle
It's just morning drizzle
It's just a water breeze
That cooling this land
From the heat of summer
Today
If you find out the plants soaked with downpour
Don't let your heart heavy
To do what you have to do
Today
If you find out the leaves falling helplessly
Don't also feel so weak
To be blown by cruel storm
It's just morning drizzle
It's just the season's change
That washes you some fun
In the harvest of autumn
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Angel Of God' (Happy First Birthday Gabriella)
Celebratory are we today, upon the day of your birth!
One year old today, Daddy misses your infectious smile-
Grown so much, I suppose you have, I haven't seen you in a while!
So proud am I to be your father-you are my miracle on earth!
A world of wonderment and joy you present to all around-
As though knowing your import to each, alas, to all!
Your smile builds for each, a friendly window-others may erect a wall!
Your father, you are, in feminine form-it serves to astound!
Beauteous sky-blue eyes, the world's window to your soul,
All that you are, all, ever you shall be-upon the world, you do bestow!
Glorious is your smile, light to all around you-and your laughter:
Your beautiful spirit, allows for each who meet you-a 'happily ever after'!
Gabriella-meaning 'Angel of God'-this is surely
Your place on Earth! Giveth you have, my last wish, early!
Maurice Harris,1 February 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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Your Eyes
The night sky is not a place,
Where I could lost while watching.
That time I would only remember ur face,
But still moons n stars try attracting
I wonder why they are so beautiful!
I could watch them for hour's n hours,
Those two eyes of yours and I give
Damn to those moon n stars.
Stars are millions n your eyes are two
But your eyes are the one to win.
Dear, It's the same mistake they always do
Every night, come to sky n compare with you
Or maybe that's not what they are doing,
They must have known you would be sleeping
In night, so they are taking their chance
Being happy, twinkling in sky and doing dance.
Many would fall in the beauty of the stars
Watching them from roofs, window, street and
Stopping bike and looking through the window of cars
Lost in its beauty and never ending night that's what they demand.
But sorry dear, I also look to the sky.
Laugh at them because I know they are shy
I don't want to see its beauty,
I have a thing to do and I call it my duty.
I ask them not to come to sky ever again
Remember this or else u (stars) would be in a great pain.
I wish if I could destroy then all,
Blast them in pieces with the strongest cannon ball.
Let's leave this and them in their own world.
I know your eyes are too beautiful.
So let me see your eyes until the day is over
I want to lost in its deepness for forever.
Don't try to hide those from me
They are to beautiful so let me see,
Or don't block with your hands or move your head
If I don't see it, still I would be breathing but a man like dead.
So please don't stop me dear,
I can't see it every day,
I am happy, smiling, inside I am dancing
It's all because u came to meet me today…
End
poem by Sushanta Rokka
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Memorial
Summer
He worked nights, leaving as we climbed
the tall narrow staircase to our shared room,
up into the summer heat, the steel fan
in the hallway window
pulling cool, leafy breezes
from our waving trees.
We heard the kitchen screen-door
slap shut, the Pontiac roaring to life,
and watched as slowly he backed down
the dark driveway, and was gone.
And gladly we glided through our misty dreams,
flying over tree-tops, baseball games
and cool swimming pools,
when finally the robin’s enthusiasm
and the fresh morning sun
flashing through green leaves
woke us as we heard the car stop
and Dad call cheerfully, “I’m home! ”
The air already scented with bacon and coffee,
we flew down the groaning stairs,
two steps at a bound,
and eagerly started another golden
summer’s day.
Winter
One winter day I did something wrong, and
he got angry and drew his worn leather belt
from the loops of his grey, stained work trousers
To teach me a lesson.
Terrified, I ran upstairs to the big closet
and trembled behind coats and sweaters,
as heavily he came up the steps,
righteous anger ringing in his voice,
tears flowing down my cheeks;
when my big brother, teenage and strong,
called defiance to him and drew him down
into the back yard to fight him
and save me, angered by his
memory of so many other beatings,
determined to stop it now!
But facing his own father
he could not fight back, and
weeping, I watched my dad
pummel my brother’s defenseless face,
far worse than any beating
I would have gotten.
From kitchen window,
I screamed to them both
to stop!
That was when my father saw,
in the kitchen window’s glare
his own father’s angry eyes,
and felt his father’s fists
landing hard on his own face,
and he stopped and
embraced my brother.
Spring
Seven years after my father died
my first child, my son, was born in spring,
and in the gleaming, sterile room
I first held him in my arms
as, with his impossibly wide, blue eyes
he calmy gazed right into my raw soul,
and I felt in a sudden rush of warmth,
a timeless love
and at last discovered
the reason for my life.
It was then
I understood my father.
In my son’s face I saw my own
and felt my father’s eyes gazing
in warm wonder on me
and I glowed with
unconditional love for my son.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mother's Prayer
A mother kneels by the cradle,
Where her little infant lies,
And she sees the ghastly shadows
Creeping around his eyes.
And she clasps her hands together,
And her heart beats loud and wild,
And she cries in a gush of anguish,
'O Father! save my child.
'Oh! do not, do not take him
So soon to the home on high;
My beautiful, dark-eyed darling,
O God! he must not die.
I cannot pray in meekness,
'My Father's will be done.'
I can only cry in anguish,
'Oh! save my infant son.''
Slowly the ghastly shadows
Crept from the baby's eyes,
And the mother saw the bright orbs
Open in sweet surprise.
And she heard the lisping prattle
And the childish laugh again,
And she clasped him close to her bosom,
And her glad tears fell like rain.
The mother stands at the window,
Watching the night come down,
As it settles slowly, slowly,
Over the busy town.
And the withered face is troubled,
And she sighs in a weary way:
'Oh! where does my darling tarry,
Now at the close of day?
'Surely his task is ended:
Why is it he does not come?'
Ah! mother, one word will answer,
And that one word is Rum.
He stands at the bar this moment,
Draining the tempter's bowl;
And your beautiful boy has entered
His name on the drunkards' roll.
Ah! well, your prayer was answered:
You prayed that he might not die,
That he might not join the angels
Who dwell in their home on high.
O mother! say, is it better,
Or is it worse than death,
To see your darling stagger,
And feel his rum-foul breath?
You could not pray, 'My Father,
Thy will, not mine, be done,'
But cried, in your deaf, blind sorrow,
'Oh! save my infant son.'
And is he saved, fond mother?
And which is better, pray,
To know he is there in the rum-shop,
Or under the grass, to-day?
O God of a mighty nation!
When shall the glad day be
That the liquor reign is ended,
And our land is truly free?-
When our darling boys may wander
Through all its length and breadth,
With never a serpent lurking
To slay them in their strength?
Full many a year has vanished
Since the grand triumphant day
When we stood in bold defiance
Of a tyrant monarch's sway;
And now in a blood-red torrent,
At the price of a million graves,
We have swept the bonds and shackles
From the hands of a million slaves.
And yet we are under a tyrant,
And yet we are slaves to-day,
And we do not bid defiance
To the baleful liquor sway.
Up! O ye mourning captives!
Strike at the tyrant's hand!
Loosen his hold for ever-
Deliver a bondaged land!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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O My Baby.. Where Had You Gone? [ part-1 ]
[ Part-1 ]
A death had occured within me;
Alas!
Nevertheless from my depths
why a voice feebly coos?
My little bird lost itself in the vast skies...
Does it now search for me
helplessly with tearful eyes?
Lo.my bird!
Your mom from here tears herself in pitious cries...
With broken wings your mom
beat furiously upon her bosom, o dear..
All my mind skies have become deserted;
The misery dumps dense darkness
in the fields of my eyes..
There is no blood stream in my heart's noodle routes;
but only hot tears hurry through in steaming floods...
O my womb's precious fruit!
How i desired to collect you in my arms
the moment I lowered my sweet burden..!
How I readied myself with fluttering wings
to call you ' o my dear darling '!
Throwing dust on my chest
have you sought refuge in the bosom of earth?
Why have you forgotten to meet
the awaiting eyes of your mother?
Why have failed to call me, 'o ammaa '
in your first crying search of mom?
O..which merciless fingers have plucked away
my sweet little bud?
Millions of dreams have I picked up
one by one all these months
and strung them in cheer for your sake;
All have gone today in clouds of curling smoke.
[to be contd..]
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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The Kiss
The snow is white on wood and wold,
The wind is in the firs,
So dead my heart is with the cold,
No pulse within it stirs,
Even to see your face, my dear,
Your face that was my sun;
There is no spring this bitter year,
And summer's dreams are done.
The snakes that lie about my heart
Are in their wintry sleep;
Their fangs no more deal sting and smart,
No more they curl and creep.
Love with the summer ceased to be;
The frost is firm and fast.
God keep the summer far from me,
And let the snakes' sleep last!
Touch of your hand could not suffice
To waken them once more;
Nor could the sunshine of your eyes
A ruined spring restore.
But ah-your lips! You know the rest:
The snows are summer rain,
My eyes are wet, and in my breast
The snakes' fangs meet again.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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I'll Never Smoke Weed With Willie Again
I always heard that his herb was top shelf
I just couldn't wait to find out for myself
Don't knock it till you tried it, well I tried it my friend
I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
I learned a hard lesson in a small Texas town
He fired up a fat boy and he passed him around
The last words I spoke before they tucked me in
I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
My party's all over before it began
You can pour me some old whiskey river my friend
But I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
I hopped on his old bus, the Honeysuckle Rose
The party was Vegas, it was after the show
Alone in the front lounge, just me and him
With one parting puff grime creeper set in
I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
My party's all over before it began
You can pour me some old whiskey river my friend
But I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
Now we're passing the guitar, telling good jokes
I know ones a coming cause I'm smelling smoke
No I do not partake, I just let it pass by
With a smile on my face and a great contact high
I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
My party's all over before it began
You can pour me some old whiskey river my friend
But I'll never smoke weed with Willie again
In the fetal position with drool on my chin
I messed up and smoked weed with Willie again
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tuesday Morning
Too many sad days
Too many tuesday mornings
I thought of you today
I wished it was yesterday morning
I thought of you today
I dreamt you were dressed in mourning
But I knew that you
With your heart beating
And your eyes shining
Would be dreaming of me
Lying with you
On a tuesday morning
I fell through the window
And I found that I was still breathing
I thought of tomorrow
And the fear that you might leave me
I thought of tomorrow
And I wished it was monday morning
But I knew that you
With your heart beating
And your eyes shining
Would be dreaming of me
Lying with you
On a tuesday morning
Turn your face from me
And I will cover myself with sorrow
Bring hell down upon me
I will surrender my heart to sorrow
Bring hell down upon me
And I will say goodbye tomorrow
But I knew that you
With your heart beating
And your eyes shining
Would be dreaming of me
Lying with you
On a tuesday morning
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Man of Her Dreams
today is the day i marry the man of my dreams
today is the day all my worries will be deceased
today is the day all my dreams will come true
today is the day that i say i do
today is the day that two become one
today is the day to rejoice and have fun
today is the day i give you my heart because i knew i loved you from the start
today is the day you take my hand and we have our first weddeing dance
today is the day that ive been waitin for
today is the day that i can truely say that i am yours
today is the day to see family and friends
today is the day you became my one and only man
today is the day`to laugh joke and play
today is the day that my father gives me away
today is the day i marry the man of my dreams
today is the day ive been dreamin about in my sleep
today is the day
poem by Nene Brock
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Bob Brockodilli from Philly
Bob Brockodilli who is
from Philly
stays at Willie's.
Willie's dog Javeria
is from Chile,
she's fat and very silly.
The first time today Bob
came and stayed,
he played with Daisy dog too.
She begged for his food,
with her eyes so blue.
Then we crossed the street
to listen to the beat
of a Philly band,
recorded at the Tin Angel,
which I understand
is the place to be seen,
so I bought their CD.
They play reggae, blues
and acoustic rock,
was there till 10 o'clock.
It was a fun time,
I enjoyed it a lot.
Thanks Willie and Bob
Brockodilli,
It was a fun time
seeing band from Philly.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 21,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Step Mother
Well I recall my Father's wife,
The day he brought her home.
His children looked for years of strife,
And troubles sure to come --
Ungraciously we welcomed her,
A thing to scorn and blame;
And swore we never would confer
On her, a Mother's name
I see her yet -- a girl in years,
With eyes so blue and mild;
She greeted us with smiles and tears,
How sweetly too she smiled --
She bent to kiss my sullen brow,
With woman's gentle grace;
And laid her tiny hand of snow
On my averted face --
"Henry -- is this your son? She said --
"Dear boy -- he now is mine --
What not one kiss? --" I shook my head,
"I am no son of thine! --"
She sighed -- and from her dimpled cheek
The rosy colour fled;
She turned away and did not speak,
My thoughts were with the dead --
There leaped from out my Father's eyes
A jet of swarthy fire;
That flashed on me in fierce surprise --
I fled before his ire
I heard her gentle voice entreat --
"Forgiveness for her sake" --
Which added swiftness to my feet,
A sad and strange mistake --
A year had scarcely rolled away
When by that hated bride;
I loved to linger half the day,
In very joy and pride;
Her voice was music to mine ear,
So soft its accent fell;
"Dear Mother now" -- and oh, how dear
No words of mine can tell --
She was so gentle, fair and kind,
So pure in soul and free from art;
That woman with her noble mind,
Subdued my rebel heart --
I just had learned to know her worth,
My Father's second choice to bless;
When God removed her from the earth,
And plunged us all in deep distress --
Hot fever smote with burning blight
Stretchd on a restless bed of pain;
I moaning lay from morn till night
With aching limbs and throbbing brain --
Four weary weeks beside my bed,
She sat within a darkened room;
Untiring held my aching head,
Nor heeded silence -- cold and gloom --
And when my courage quite gave way,
And fainter grew my struggling breath;
She taught my stricken soul to pray
And calmly meet approaching death --
"Fear not God's angel, sent by Him,
The weary spirit to release;
Before the mortal eyes grow dim,
Floats down the white winged dove of peace" --
There came a change -- but fingers small,
No longer smoothed my matted hair;
She sprang not to my feeble call,
Nor helped to lift me to my chair --
And I arose as from the dead,
A life for her dear life was given;
The angel who had watched my bed
Had vanished into Heaven! --
poem by Susanna Strickland Moodie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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