Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MY MOTHER'S PICTURE, by ELLEN M. HUNTINGTON GATES


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MY MOTHER'S PICTURE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: How many times, as through the room I hasten
Last Line: To your high place I shall have leave to come.
Subject(s): Mothers


HOW many times, as through the room I hasten,
Without a thought of other days at all,
I lift my eyes, and straightway I am standing
Before her picture, hanging on the wall.

Almost it seems her pleasant voice is calling,
And I am fain to answer, "yes, I hear,
All earthly sounds shall be to me as silence,
If you will speak, O mother, mother dear."

No answer comes, I hush my breath to listen,
But still the eyes with patient, steadfast gaze,
Look into mine; they pierce through flesh and spirit.
I bow my head and blush beneath their rays.

For she is wise with wisdom that appalls me,
The solemn secrets of the grave she knows,
And high above, by God's own hand uplifted,
Through wondrous ways of His own Heaven she goes.

Beyond all change, and safe from time's mutation,
And grieved no more by earth's forlorn complaints,
Thou pictured face, dim semblance of my mother,
How dost thou look among the crowned saints?

So far! so far! Once, if I faintly called you,
Or laughed, or wept, you were so quick to know;
All else might fail, my mother's love was certain,
Now, dying e'en, your touch I must forego.

Thou there, I here, and I know not what spaces
Beyond the grave's green width divide us two;
Nor of the times unnoticed and unnumbered,
That must go o'er me ere I look on you.

But I am coming, I shall find you, mother;
Sometime, somewhere, when His great will is done,
And I am fit to stand once more beside you,
To your high place I shall have leave to come.





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