Page:Poetry, a magazine of verse, Volume 7 (October 1915-March 1916).djvu/181

If My Mother Knew

If my mother knew How our doves at dawn Shake me with their wings, Wild, bewildered, wan, When the white star sings And they would be gone:

Would she from her sleep Rise and look afar, Past our fold and keep, To that pulsing star?

If my mother knew How the heath in flower, With its faint perfume At the twilight hour, Fills my little room Like some lady's bower:

Would she from the hearth Rise and look again, Past our piteous dearth To the purpling plain?

If my mother knew How my heart will beat