 | Poems of "Frank Forester" (Henry William Herbert) |  |
THE MOTHER.
A SONNET.
Beautiful bride of old historic race,Beautiful mother of the noblest boy
That e'er sweet hope repaid with sweeter joy,
Canst lift the veil from that sweet sunny face?
Canst read the virtues of each warlike peer,
That left his fame in trust to after days,
Kindling his future sons to deeds of praise,
Rivals of Hastings, Cressy, and Poictier?
If noblest steeds their sires' high strain partake,
If soars the eagle's nestling to the sun,
If stanchest hounds the stanchest whelps do make,
Fear not: thy child as clear a course shall run
As hers, who ne'er the haughty boast did rue,
That all her sons were brave and all her daughters true.
| Poems of "Frank Forester" (Henry William Herbert) | |