The Mother Poem by Robert Laurence Binyon
The Mother
The Mother to her brooding breast
Her shrouded baby closely holds,
A stationary shadow, drest
In shadow, falling folds on folds.
With gesture motionless as Night
She stands; through wavering glare and sound
Deep pierces like a sombre light
The full gloom of her gaze profound.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: baby
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8/18/2026 10:56:19 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
