MINE is the kiss of motherhood. Why fear The dusky regal splendour of my brows? As some great queen of persecuted house With many a lingering yearning kiss and tear Confides to lowly arms her princeling dear, Until the imperious martial music rouse The land to memory of its ancient vows,— With Life, thy foster-nurse, I hid thee here. Now would I wean thee softly from this Past That wrongs the erstwhile playmate of the stars; Forget those low dim hills, those pale pent skies. Hail! thou hast heired the Infinite at last; And kingly pleasures wait thee, kingly wars.— Come, gather godhead from my nearer eyes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: THE VERDICT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IS YOUR TOWN NINEVEH? by MARIANNE MOORE CENTRAL PARK AT DUSK by SARA TEASDALE PORTRAIT OF A MACHINE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER PROLONGED SONNET: WHEN THE TROOPS WERE RETURNING FROM MILAN by NICCOLO DEGLI ALBIZZI |