The Virgin Martyr
Every wild she-bird has nest and mate in the warm April weather,
But a captive woman, made for love -- no mate, no nest has she.
In the spring of young desire, young men and maids are wed together,
And the happy mothers flaunt their bliss for all the world to see:
Nature's sacramental feast for these -- an empty board for me.
I, a young maid once, an old maid now, deposed, despised, forgotten --
I, like them have thrilled with passion and have dreamed of nuptial rest,
Of the trembling life within me of my children unbegotten,
Of a breathing new-born body to my yearning bosom prest,
Of the rapture of a little soft mouth drinking at my breast.
Time, that heals so many sorrows, keeps mine ever freshly aching;
Though my face is growing furrowed and my brown hair turning white,
Still I mourn my irremediable loss, asleep or waking --
Still I hear my son's voice calling "mother" in the dead of night,
And am haunted by my girl's eyes that will never see the light.
O my children that I might have had! my children, lost for ever!
O the goodly years that might have been -- now desolate and bare!
O malignant God or Fate, what have I done that I should never
Take my birthright like the others, take the crown that women wear,
And possess the common heritage to which all flesh is heir?
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Virgin Martyr by Ada Cambridge )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- सोरनिबा आगान, Ronjoy Brahma
- Roaring ready to go…, Mark Heathcote
- why does this have to happen, Happy Hippie Girl
- Sadness Of Living, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Blackened Bronze, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Child of the South, Leah Ayliffe
- Progressive Yearnings, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- She Knows, Louis Borgo
- ZZ Was Hitler A Vegetarian, Saiom Shriver
- Palestinian DNA, Saiom Shriver