I LOVE old mothers -- mothers with white hair, And kindly eyes, and lips grown softly sweet, With murmured blessings over sleeping babes. There is a something in their quiet grace That speaks the calm of Sabbath afternoons; A knowledge in their deep, unfaltering eyes, That far outreaches all philosophy. Time, with caressing touch, about them weaves The silver-threaded fairy-shawl of age, While all the echoes of forgotten songs Seemed joined to lend a sweetness to their speech. Old mothers! -- as they pass with slow-timed step, Their trembling hands cling gently to youth's strength. Sweet mothers! As they pass, one sees again, Old garden walks, old roses, and old loves. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NICHOLAS NYE by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE HOW WE BEAT THE FAVOURITE by ADAM LINDSAY GORDON THE BATTLE OF NASEBY by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY THE QUEEN IN FRANCE; AN ANCIENT SCOTTISH BALLAD by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE DEATH OF A FRIEND by LEVI BISHOP A WRECKED LOCOMOTIVE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: FAILURE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |