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
- I took my lyre and said by Sappho
- Dust by Sara Teasdale
- Николай Глазков – Раздумья
- Song III: It Grew Up Without Heeding by William Morris
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Н. Ф. Щербине
- Died of Wounds by Siegfried Sassoon
- Николай Карамзин – К портрету Ломоносова
- Анатолий Жигулин – Белый-белый торжественный снег
- Utopia by Ndue Ukaj
- English Poetry. Robert William Service. Dark Glasses. Роберт Уильям Сервис.
- Moonrise by Sylvia Plath
- Poetic Justice by Robby Charters
- Василий Казин – Гармонист
- Masonic Song—Ye Sons of Old Killie by Robert Burns
- From Far, From Eve and Morning poem – A. E. Housman
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).
