HARK! From the trampled gardens once so fair, From hateful trenches in the harried fields, From vineyards wasting in polluted air Their rich, ungarnered yields, There comes the piteous, instinctive cry Of soldiers in their lonely agony -- "Mother!" "Mere!" Alas! Those bonny yellow heads low-lying! Blue anguished eyes -- like eyes beloved and near! Weak, fevered lips with painful effort sighing That word of all most dear -- So like on every tongue, so understood, Sign of our common, outraged brotherhood -- "Mutter!" "Mither!" They cry to Her -- the Pity of the race, The fostering Care from which they marched afar, The Sympathy forsaken, and the grace Of Love betrayed by war. In this their bitter hour the brave men cry To her who bore them, piteously to die -- "Madre!" "Mat!" And she at home, the pale, heart-broken mother -- She who had nought to do with war and strife -- Knows Cain and Abel, brother slaying brother! Sad Eve who gave them life Must watch and wait and weep and work, and hear Those kindred voices crying to her ear -- "Mutter!" "Maman!" Oh, hearken, human Love! unselfish, high, Impartial as the love of mothers good! Not vainly died the lads, if their last cry Prove us our brotherhood; If horror so abound for kindred slain, Man ends forever War, the crime of Cain. "Mother!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEAF HOUSE AGENT by KATHERINE MANSFIELD MY COMFORTER by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE SURRENDER AT APPOMATTOX [APRIL 9, 1865] by HERMAN MELVILLE THE WELCOME TO ALEXANDRA by ALFRED TENNYSON THE LEPRECAUN, OR THE FAIRY SHOEMAKER by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 44. FAREWELL TO JULIET (6) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE VIADUCT by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |