Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE DEAR OLD TOILING ONE, by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) Poet's Biography First Line: Oh, many a leaf will fall tonight Last Line: In shadow or in sun. Subject(s): Mothers | ||||||||
OH, many a leaf will fall to-night, As she wanders through the wood! And many an angry gust will break The dreary solitude. I wonder if she's past the bridge, Where Luggie moans beneath, While rain-drops clash in planted lines On rivulet and heath. Disease hath laid his palsied palm Upon my aching brow; The headlong blood of twenty-one Is thin and sluggish now. T is nearly ten! A fearful night, Without a single star To light the shadow on her soul With sparkle from afar: The moon is canopied with clouds, And her burden it is sore; What would wee Jackie do, if he Should never see her more? Ay, light the lamp, and hang it up At the window fair and free; 'T will be a beacon on the hill To let your mother see. And trim it well, my little Ann, For the night is wet and cold, And you know the weary, winding way Across the miry wold. All drench'd will be her simple gown, And the wet will reach her skin: I wish that I could wander down, And the red quarry win, To take the burden from her back, And place it upon mine; With words of cheerful condolence, Not utter'd to repine. You have a kindly mother, dears, As ever bore a child, And Heaven knows I love her well In passion undefil'd. Ah me! I never thought that she Would brave a night like this, While I sat weaving by the fire A web of fantasies. How the winds beat this home of ours With arrow-falls of rain; This lonely home upon the hill They beat with might and main. And 'mid the tempest one lone heart Anticipates the glow, Whence, all her weary journey done, Shall happy welcome flow. 'T is after ten! O, were she here, Young man although I be, I could fall down upon her neck, And weep right gushingly! I have not lov'd her half enough, The dear old toiling one, The silent watcher by my bed, In shadow or in sun. | 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 IN THE SHADOWS: 19 by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) |
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