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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MORNING STAR, by HARRIET R. BEAN
First Line: My mother rose from her chilly bed
Last Line: I would not call her back!
Subject(s): Mothers
First Line: My mother rose from her chilly bed
Last Line: I would not call her back!
Subject(s): Mothers
My mother rose from her chilly bed
Softly at star-sweet dawn;
Nor tarried for meat but swiftly stepped
Over the sill and was gone.
She left her slippers side by side
Beneath her sleep-tossed bed,
Her robe still folded at the foot,
Her pillow crushed at the head.
Across the dew-wet grass she sped
With never a farewell word;
Her steps were fleet, her face alight
At the summons she had heard.
Unfettered, with youthful eagerness
She trod day's whitening track,
A glowing, vanishing Morning Star ...
I would not call her back!
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