THIS to a mother's sacred memory Her son hath hallow'd. Absent many a year Far over sea, his sweetest dreams were still Of that dear voice which sooth'd his infancy: And after many a fight against the Moor And Malabar, or that fierce cavalry Which he had seen covering the boundless plain Even to the utmost limits where the eye Could pierce the far horizon, -- his first thought, In safety, was of her, who, when she heard The tale of that day's danger, would retire And pour her pious gratitude to heaven In prayers and tears of joy. The lingering hour Of his return, long-look'd for, came at length, And full of hope he reach'd his native shore. Vain hope that puts its trust in human life! For ere he came the number of her days Was full. O reader, what a world were this, How unendurable its weight, if they Whom Death hath sunder'd did not meet again! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLEVER TOM CLINCH GOING TO BE HANGED by JONATHAN SWIFT THE GREEN ROADS by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS BATUSCHKA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH WE'LL GO NO MORE THE WOODLAND WAY by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE A KISS - BY MISTAKE by JOEL BENTON VESPERS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN LESSONS FROM THE GORSE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |