The Mother
by Patrick Pearse
I do not grudge them: Lord, I do not grudge
My two strong sons that I have seen go out
To break their strength and die, they and a few,
In bloody protest for a glorious thing,
They shall be spoken of among their people,
The generations shall remember them,
And call them blessed;
But I will speak their names to my own heart
In the long nights;
The little names that were familiar once
Round my dead hearth.
Lord, thou art hard on mothers:
We suffer in their coming and their going;
And tho’ I grudge them not, I weary, weary
Of the long sorrow—And yet I have my joy:
My sons were faithful, and they fought.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Николай Языков – Вторая присяга
- Владимир Британишский – Очереди
- Владимир Корнилов – Гумилев
- Testing The Bomb by Shel Silverstein
- Lines Written On Visiting The Chateaux On The Loire poem – Alfred Austin
- Summer – The Second Pastoral; or Alexis poem – Alexander Pope
- Альфред Теннисон – Королева мая
- Infant Sorrow by William Blake
- Often I Am Permitted to Return to a Meadow by Robert Duncan
- Song. A Beautiful Mistress. by Thomas Carew
- A Greek Girl poem – Amy Levy poems | Poems and Poetry
- Robert Burns: Frae The Friends And Land I Love:
- A Dialogue Of Self And Soul by William Butler Yeats
- Of course I love you by Sappho
- Василий Курочкин – Двуглавый орел
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
