Joseph Mary Plunkett
My Lady Has The Grace Of Death - Poem by Joseph Mary Plunkett
My lady has the grace of Death
Whose charity is quick to save,
Her heart is broad as heaven’s breath,
Deep as the grave.
She found me fainting by the way
And fed me from her babeless breast
Then played with me as children play,
Rocked me to rest.
When soon I rose and cried to heaven
Moaning for sins I could not weep,
She told me of her sorrows seven
Kissed me to sleep.
And when the morn rose bright and ruddy
And sweet birds sang on the branch above
She took my sword from her side all bloody
And died for love.
Comments about My Lady Has The Grace Of Death by Joseph Mary Plunkett
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You