Home they brought her warrior dead: She nor swooned, nor uttered cry; All her maidens, watching, said, "She must weep or she will die." Then they praised him, soft and low, Called him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe; Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maiden from her place, Lightly to the warrior stept, Took the face-cloth from the face; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee, -- Like summer tempest came her tears, "Sweet my child, I live for thee." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE RHINE by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES VOLPONE: TO CELIA by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS A JEWISH FAMILY; IN A SMALL VALLEY OPPOSITE ST. GOAR by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 42. 'GRECIAN AND ENGLISH' by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE CLOAK by ANNA LOUISE BARNEY WITHER AWAY by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY OLD SARUM; LINES ON THE CONFERENCE OF THE ENGLISH CHURCH AT SALISBURY by ALICE COLBURN BEAL |