Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MY BIRTHDAY, by ELIZA COOK Poet's Biography First Line: Mother, there's no soft hand comes now Last Line: Brighter than that of meeting thee. Subject(s): Birthdays; Mothers; Nostalgia | ||||||||
Mother, there's no soft hand comes now To smooth the dark curls o'er my brow; I hear no voice so low and mild As that which breathed "my own loved child." No smile will greet, no lips will press, No prayer will rise, no words will bless, So fond, so dear, so true for me As those I ever met from thee. Oh! that my soul could melt in tears, And die beneath the pain it bears; The grief that springs, the thoughts that goad, Become a heavy maddening load; For all that heart and memory blends But hotly scathes and sorely rends; And feeling, with its biting fangs, Tortures with sharp and bleeding pangs. My Mother! thou didst prophesy With sighing tone and weeping eye, That the cold world would never be A kindred resting-place for me. Oh, thou wert right! I cannot find One sympathetic link to bind, But where some dark alloy comes in To mar with folly, wrong, or sin. My Mother! thou didst know full well My spirit was not fit to dwell With crowds who dream not of the ray That burns the very soul away. That ray is mine; 'tis held from GOD, But scourges like a blazing rod, And never glows with fiercer flame Than when 'tis kindled at thy name. My Mother! thou art remembered yet With doting love and keen regret; My birthday finds me once again In fervent sorrow, deep as vain. Thou art gone for ever, I must wait The will of Heaven, the work of fate. And faith can yield no hope for me Brighter than that of meeting thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BELL FROM EUROPE by WELDON KEES THE STONE TABLE by GALWAY KINNELL LETTER TO MAXINE SULLIVAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH HANGING THE BLUE NUNS; FOR WARREN CARRIER by MADELINE DEFREES OF POLITICS, & ART by NORMAN DUBIE MY SISTER LIKED THE POSTCARD OF SNOW by ANSELM HOLLO THE PLAYER PIANO by RANDALL JARRELL |
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