Saturday, November 01, 2014

A Mother's Lament For the Death of Her Son.

Fate gave the word, the arrow sped,
  And pierc’d my darling’s heart;
And with him all the joys are fled
  Life can to me impart.

By cruel hands the sapling drops,        
  In dust dishonour’d laid;
So fell the pride of all my hopes,
  My age’s future shade.

The mother-linnet in the brake
  Bewails her ravish’d young;        
So I, for my lost darling’s sake,
  Lament the live-day long.

Death, oft I’ve feared thy fatal blow.
  Now, fond, I bare my breast;
O, do thou kindly lay me low        
  With him I love, at rest!

Robert Burns

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