Robert William Service
Her baby was so full of glee,
And through the day
It laughed and babbled on her knee
In happy play.
It pulled her hair all out of curl
With noisy joy;
So peppy she was glad her girl
Was not a boy.
Then as she longed for it to sleep,
To her surprise
It just relaxed within her keep
With closing eyes.
And as it lay upon her breast
So still its breath,
So exquisite its utter rest
It looked like death.
It seemed like it had slipped away
To shadow land;
With tiny face like tinted clay
And waxen hand.
No ghost of sigh, no living look . . .
Then with an ache
Of panic fear and love she shook
Her babe awake.
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Comments about this poem (Young Mother by Robert William Service )
Gerard Manley Hopkins
(28 July 1844 – 8 June 1889)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
(November 11, 1836 – March 19, 1907)
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