Poetry Archives

Mother! Mother!
  The startled cry of childish fright
  Rang through the silence of the night,
  As but the mother’s fond caress
  Could soothe its infantile distress;
  And the mother answered, with loving stroke
  Of her gentle hand, as she softly spoke:
  “Hush, hush, my child, that troubled cry;
  What evil can harm thee, with mother nigh?”

Mother! Mother!
  Long years have passed, and the fevered brow
  Of a bearded man, she is stroking now,
  As through delirium and pain
  He cries as a little child, again.
  And the mother answered, with loving stroke
  Of her careworn hand, as she softly spoke:
  “Hush, hush, my child, that troubled cry;
  What evil can harm thee, with mother nigh?”

Mother! Mother!
  Still time rolls on, and an old man stands
  Trembling on life’s declining sands;
  As memory bridges the flood of years
  He cries as a child, with childish tears;
  And memory answers, with loving stroke
  Of a vanished hand, and an echo spoke:
  “Hush, hush, my child, that troubled cry;
  What evil can harm thee, with mother nigh?”