Andrew Clement Nairn


The Mother


I do not grudge them: Lord, I do not grudge

My two strong sons that I have seen go out

To break their strength and die, they and a few,

In bloody protest for a glorious thing,

They shall be spoken of among their people,

The generations shall remember them,

And call them blessed;

But I will speak their names to my own heart

In the long nights;

The little names that were familiar once

Round my dead hearth.

Lord, thou art hard on mothers:

We suffer in their coming and their going;

And tho' I grudge them not, I weary, weary

Of the long sorrow- And yet I have my joy:

My sons were faithful, and they fought

Submitted: Monday, April 22, 2013
Edited: Friday, September 27, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

By Patrick Pearse
Irelands Hero

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