Isabella Valancy Crawford
In the first dawn she lifted from her bed
The holy silver of her noble head,
And listened, listened, listened for his tread.
'Too soon, too soon !' she murmured, 'Yet I'll keep
My vigil longer thou, O tender Sleep,
Art but the joy of those who wake and weep!
'Joy's self hath keen, wide eyes. O flesh of mine,
And mine own blood and bone, the very wine
Of my aged heart, I see thy dear eyes shine!
'I hear thy tread; thy light, loved footsteps run
Along the way, eager for that 'Well done !'
We'll weep and kiss to thee, my soldier son!
'Blest mother I he lives! Yet had he died
Blest were I still, I sent him on the tide
Of my full heart to save his nation's pride!'
'O God, if that I tremble so to-day,
Bowed with such blessings that I cannot pray
By speech a mother prays, dear Lord, alway
'In some far fibre of her trembling mind!
I'll up I thought I heard a bugle bind
Its silver with the silver of the wind. '
Isabella Valancy Crawford's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (His Mother by Isabella Valancy Crawford )
- Why do need wisdom anytime?, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- it is almost poetry, Mandolyn ...
- Wisdom's great aim, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Our world is without any kind of wisdom, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Dream packed drama, hasmukh amathalal
- A fool واحد احمق, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Quite same, hasmukh amathalal
- Lack of wisdom, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Wisdom, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- The Exquisite Thing, Mark R. Elias
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Heather Burns
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
Federico García Lorca
(5 June 1898 – 19 August 1936)