To Mother

I would that you should know,
Dear mother, that I love you — love
you so!
That I remember other days and years;
Remember childish joys and childish fears.
And this, because my baby's little hand

Opened my own heart's door and made

me understand.

I wonder how you could

Be always kind and good!

So quick to hear; to tend

My smallest ills; to lend

Such sympathising ears

Swifter than ancient seer's.
I never yet knew hands so soft and kind,
Nor any cheek so smooth, nor any mind
So full of tender thoughts. . . . Dear
mother, now
I think that I can guess a little how
You must have looked for some response,
some sign,
That all my tiresome wayward heart was
thine...

Photo Credit: Mother and Child by Frederick Leighton
Poem Credit: To Mother by Fay Inchfawn