Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. THE MOTHER TO HER DAUGHTER, by EDWARD CARPENTER Poet's Biography First Line: Beautiful child that launchest out on the great sea of life Last Line: Closer even than now. Subject(s): Love; Mothers & Daughters | ||||||||
BEAUTIFUL child that launchest out on the great sea of life, Soon I, thy Mother, must leave thee: soon the dark shall close me in, and leave thee alone in the bright sunshine. And thy lovers shall come and make love to thee: they shall lay their fortunes at thy feet, and their strength and the glory of their manhood; They shall desire thee, for thou art beautiful as the silver sickle moon arising in heaven before the dawn. Yet when they come forget not me, O my child: be not deceived by their words; For none ever again shall love thee as I love thee, none ever again shall know, as I know, thy hidden thoughtsnone shall read the light that plays upon thy face as I can read it. These shall love thee for themselves: they shall seek thee in order to possess thee; but I have given all that I have to thee. All the years that we have been together since than first pressed thy tiny palm upon my breast to look into my face, until now; I have given myself to thee. Before thy feet, or ever thou couldst walk, my love has walked, my thoughts have circled thee, my desire has made thee very beautiful. If I might pray, I pray that when thou hast known the love of man Thou, too, may'st become a mother, and so even through travail and suffering may'st know the greater love. Then far away down the years thou shalt remember me; As when one ascends a mountain the opposite mountain lifts itself higher and higher, so as thou goest farther from me I will grow upon thee clearer and closer even than now. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAWN BEFORE DOW SEASON by JOAN LARKIN ONE FOR ALL NEWBORNS by THYLIAS MOSS FIRST THANKSGIVING by SHARON OLDS HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR by SHARON OLDS CHANEL NO. 5 by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR THE GLASS ESSAY by ANNE CARSON AS A MOULD FOR SOME FAIR FORM by EDWARD CARPENTER |
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