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Poetry Archives

A continuing selection of classic and contemporary poems.

Empty Are The Mother’s Arms

Alfred Castner King

Ah, empty are the mother’s arms
  Which clasp a vanished form;
A darling spared from life’s alarms,
  And safe from earthly storm.

In absent reverie, she hears
  That voice, nor can forget;
The fond illusion disappears,—
  Her arms are empty, yet.
Online text © 1998-2008 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
From Mountain Idylls, and Other Poems | Fleming H. Revell Company, 1901
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