Volume I Part 85 (1/2)

THE VOICE

As I went down the hill I heard The laughter of the countryside; For, rain being past, the whole land stirred With new emotion, like a bride.

I scarce had left the gra.s.sy lane, When something made me catch my breath: A woman called, and called again, Elizabeth! Elizabeth!

It was my mother's name. A part Of wounded memory sprang to tears, And the few violets of my heart Shook in the wind of happier years.

Quicker than magic came the face That once was sun and moon for me; The garden shawl, the cap of lace, The collie's head against her knee.

Mother, who findest out a way To pa.s.s the sentinels, and stand Behind my chair at close of day, To touch me--almost--with thy hand, Deep in my breast, how sure, how clear, The lamp of love burns on till death!-- How trembles if I chance to hear Elizabeth! Elizabeth!

Norman Gale [1862-

MOTHER

I have praised many loved ones in my song, And yet I stand Before her shrine, to whom all things belong, With empty hand.

Perhaps the ripening future holds a time For things unsaid; Not now; men do not celebrate in rhyme Their daily bread.

Theresa Helburn [1888-

AD MATREM

Oft in the after days, when thou and I Have fallen from the scope of human view, When, both together, under the sweet sky, We sleep beneath the daisies and the dew, Men will recall thy gracious presence bland, Conning the pictured sweetness of thy face; Will pore o'er paintings by thy plastic hand, And vaunt thy skill and tell thy deeds of grace.

Oh, may they then, who crown thee with true bays, Saying, ”What love unto her son she bore!”

Make this addition to thy perfect praise, ”Nor ever yet was mother wors.h.i.+pped more!”

So shall I live with Thee, and thy dear fame Shall link my love unto thine honored name.

Julian Fane [1827-1870]

C. L. M.

In the dark womb where I began, My mother's life made me a man.

Through all the months of human birth Her beauty fed my common earth.

I cannot see, nor breathe, nor stir, But through the death of some of her.

Down in the darkness of the grave She cannot see the life she gave.