Husha, O husha, And lull-lullaby; No mother in Russia Is prouder than I. You stumble no longer, Soon you will run; And you will grow stronger Than Samson, my son. You will be famous, Your thoughts will go wide; Isaiah and Amos Will walk at your side. Your words will be graven In metal and stone; And the Great Ones in Heaven Will envy my son. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEARS AT RASPBERRY TIME by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONCERNING NECESSITY by HAYDEN CARRUTH SPRING WIND IN LONDON by KATHERINE MANSFIELD JOHN WILKES BOOTH AT THE FARM (JANUARY 12, 1848) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |