Mother

Edgar Albert Guest

 Next Poem          

Never a sigh for the cares that she bore for me
Never a thought of the joys that flew by;
Her one regret that she couldn't do more for me,
Thoughtless and selfish, her Master was I.

Oh, the long nights that she came at my call to
me!
Oh, the soft touch of her hands on my brow!
Oh, the long years that she gave up her all to
me!
Oh, how I yearn for her gentleness now!

Slave to her baby! Yes, that was the way of
her,
Counting her greatest of services small;
Words cannot tell what this old heart would
say of her,
Mother -- the sweetest and fairest of all.

Next Poem 

 Back to Edgar Albert Guest
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.