A Mother's breast:
Safe refuge from her childish fears,
From childish troubles, childish tears,
Mists that enshroud her dawning years!
see how in sleep she seems to sing
A voiceless psalm--an offering
Raised, to the glory of her King
In Love: for Love is Rest.
A Darling's kiss:
Dearest of all the signs that fleet
From lips that lovingly repeat
Again, again, the message sweet!
Full to the brim with girlish glee,
A child, a very child is she,
Whose dream of heaven is still to be
At Home: for Home is Bliss.
The baby's start in life must be one of being held in loving arms and given comfort when hungry, dirty, or in distress. Then slowly life changes and while Mother's arms still hold with love, the child must deal with life's pains and discomfort by himself.... yet we hope his beginning defines his end- -that of love
.......so true...home is bliss...enjoyed this wonderful write...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem was set to music, and our girls' ensemble sang it in high school in the late 50s. Does anyone remember this. I thought Ned Rorem was the composer, but I can't substantiate this