IT WAS the eve my mother died. The bowl with water had been set; The candle shone, the bier beside -- The room, I see it yet! Above the bowl I chanced to lean; The water like a mirror lay -- My mother's face therein was seen! Half-wild I turned away. And long my tears flowed unassuaged ... But now I know, since years are gone, It was my face I saw -- but aged, With lines of sorrow drawn! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EXILE OF ERIN by THOMAS CAMPBELL A CANADIAN BOAT SONG; WRITTEN ON THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE by THOMAS MOORE THE DEATH OF ADONIS by THEOCRITUS PSALM 38. DOMINE NE IN FURORE by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE APPLE-BLOSSOM by MATHILDE BLIND TO MARY; FROM THE NOVEL OF MARY DE CLIFFORD by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: SMALL PEOPLE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |