Page:Verses–Blanche·Baughan-1898.pdf/24



WRAP me round with thine arms, O Mother! Take my head to thy dim, deep bosom, Dark and mighty Mother of mine. Rest me a moment—I am tired, Mother mine!

These dull tears that keep welling, welling, Kiss them back! And this hard, hot forehead, Calm and patient Mother of mine, Let thy cool palm soothe and loosen, Mother mine!

This heart-aching, these cares, this weakness, Draw them off—they are harsh and heavy, Dewy-handed Mother of mine! Lave me in purity, lap me in freshness, Mother mine!