Joaquin Miller's Poems | ||
XXXVI
I see sad mothers here and thereSit by and braid their heavy hair,
The while they watch their babes at play.
I note no fear, I hear no sigh,
Not even hear a baby cry;
But Oh! Madonna, mother, bride,
Dark mourning with your ebon tide,
My heart is with you here today,
As yours is with him far away.
Joaquin Miller's Poems | ||