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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HIS MOTHER'S SONG, by ANONYMOUS
First Line: Beneath the hot midsummer sun
Last Line: By those old hymns are stirred
Subject(s): Mothers
First Line: Beneath the hot midsummer sun
Last Line: By those old hymns are stirred
Subject(s): Mothers
BENEATH the hot midsummer sun
The men had marched all day;
And now beside a rippling stream,
Upon the grass they lay.
Tiring of games and idle jests,
As swept the hours along,
They called to one who mused apart,
"Come, friend, give us a song."
"I fear I cannot please," he said;
"The only songs I know
Are those my mother used to sing
For me long years ago."
"Sing one of those," a rough voice cried,
"There's none but true men here;
To every mother's son of us,
A mother's songs are dear."
The songs are done, the camp is still,
Naught but the stream is heard;
But, ah! the depths of every soul
By those old hymns are stirred.
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