In doubtful breast whilst motherly pity With furious famine standeth at debate, Saith th'Hebrew mother, 'O child unhappy, Return thy blood where thou hadst milk of late. Yield me those limbs that I made unto thee And enter there where thou wert generate. For of one body against all nature To another must I make sepulture.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FINALITY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON GHOSTS OF THE OLD YEAR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON IN WALKED BUD WITH A PALETTE by CLARENCE MAJOR STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 5. MARYLAND by CLARENCE MAJOR |