Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE UNBORN, by JULIA NEELY FINCH First Line: Thou art my very own Last Line: Our little child! Our little child! Subject(s): Mothers | ||||||||
THOU art my very own, A part of me, Bone of my bone And flesh of my flesh. And thou shalt be Heart of my heart And brain of brain -- In years that are to come to me and thee. Before thou wast a being, made Of spirit, as of flesh, Thou didst sleep beneath the beats Of my tumultuous heart, and drink, With little aimless lips And blind, unseeing eyes, From every bursting vein Replete with life's abundant flood. Ay! even of my very breath, And from my blood Thou didst imbibe the fresh And glorious air, that holds the sweets Of nature's sure and slow eclipse; That ceaseless round of life and death Which are the close entwined braid Of all the seasons' subtle mesh And endless chain. In a soft and silken chamber set apart -- Here, just beneath my happy heart, -- Thou didst lie at dreamy ease While all my being paid Its tribute unto thee. What happy hours for thee and me! As when a bird Broods on its downy nest -- So would I sit And watch the flit Of idle shadows to and fro, And brood upon my treasure hid Within my willing flesh. And when there stirred A little limb -- a tiny hand! -- What rapturous thrills of ecstasy Shook all my being to its inmost citadel! Ah! none but she who has borne A child beneath her breast may know What wondrous thrill and subtle spell Comes from this wondrous woven band That binds a mother to her unborn child Within her womb. As in the earth -- That fragrant tomb Of all that lives, or man or beast -- Soft blossoms bud and bloom and swell, So didst thou from my body gain Sweet sustenance and royal feast. Then through the gates of priceless pain Thou camest to me -- fair, so fair, And so complete From rose-tipped feet To silken hair! And there beneath each pearly lid, There glowed a jewel -- passing rare! It moves and breathes! It slakes its thirst At my all-abundant breast! Oh, moment born of life -- of love! Oh, rapture of all earth's high, high above! Three lives in one -- By loving won! My own -- and thine -- Oh, bond divine! Our little child! Our little child! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY MOTHER'S HANDS by ANDREW HUDGINS CONTINENT'S END by ROBINSON JEFFERS IN THE 25TH YEAR OF MY MOTHER'S DEATH by JUDY JORDAN THE PAIDLIN' WEAN by ALEXANDER ANDERSON BLASTING FROM HEAVEN by PHILIP LEVINE EPISTLE IN FORM OF A BALLAD TO HIS FRIENDS by FRANCOIS VILLON |
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