The Mother's Soul Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis


When the moon was horned the mother diedA
And the child pulled at her hand and kneeB
And he rubbed her cheek and loudly criedA
'O mother arise give bread to me 'C
But the pine tree bent its headD
And the wind at the door post saidD
'O child thy mother is dead 'C
The sun set his loom to weave the dayE
The frost bit sharp like a silent curF
The child by her pillow paused in his playE
'Mother build up the sweet fire of fir 'C
But the fir tree shook its conesG
And loud cried the pitiful stonesG
'Wolf Death has thy mother's bones 'C
They bore the mother out on her bierH
Their tears made warm her breast and shroudI
The smiling child at her head stood nearJ
And the long white tapers shook and bowedI
And said with their tongues of goldK
To the ice lumps of the grave moldK
'How heavy are ye and cold '-
They buried the mother to the feastL
They flocked with the beaks of unclean crowsM
The wind came up from the red eyed eastL
And bore in its arms the chill soft snowsM
They said to each other 'SereJ
Are the hearts the mother held dearJ
Forgotten her babe plays here '-
The child with the tender snowflakes playedN
And the wind on its fingers twined his hairJ
And still by the tall brown grave he stayedN
Alone in the churchyard lean and bareJ
The sods on the high grave criedA
To the mother's white breast insideA
'Lie still in thy deep rest bide '-
Her breast lay still like a long chilled stoneO
Her soul was out on the bleak grey dayE
She saw her child by the grave aloneO
With the sods and snow and wind at playE
Said the sharp lips of the rushP
'Red as thy roses O bushQ
With anger the dead can blush '-
A butterfly to the child's breast flewR
Fluttered its wings on his sweet round cheekS
Danced by his fingers small cold and blueR
The sun strode down past the mountain peakS
The butterfly whispered lowT
To the child 'Babe follow me knowT
Cold is the earth here below '-
The butterfly flew followed the childU
Lured by the snowy torch of its wingsV
The wind sighed after them soft and wildU
Till the stars wedded night with golden ringsV
Till the frost upreared its headD
And the ground to it groaned and saidD
'The feet of the child are lead '-
The child's head drooped to the brown sere moldK
On the crackling cones his white breast layE
The butterfly touched the locks of goldK
The soul of the child sprang from its clayE
The moon to the pine tree stoleW
And silver lipped said to its boleW
'How strong is the mother's soul '-
The wings of the butterfly grew outX
To the mother's arms long soft and whiteY
She folded them warm her babe aboutX
She kissed his lips into berries brightY
She warmed his soul on her breastZ
And the east called out to the westZ
'Now the mother's soul will rest '-
Under the roof where the burial feastL
Was heavy with meat and red with wineA2
Each crossed himself as out of the eastL
A strange wind swept over oak and pineA2
The trees to the home roof saidD
' 'Tis but the airy rush and treadD
Of angels greeting thy dead '-

Isabella Valancy Crawford


Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme

Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation

Write your comment about The Mother's Soul poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford


Recent Interactions*

This poem was read 3 times,

This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members,

This poem was voted by 0 members.

(* Interactions only in the last 7 days)

New Poems

Popular Poets