Demeter? 'Tis a name! For in thy face
A myriad women find their mourning-place!
Thou, sitting lonely on the wayside stone,
O pagan mother, thou art not alone!
Though Hellas now, thy grief so calmly worn!
Yet art thou Egypt, reft of thy first-born;
And now lamenting Rama, that fair head
With ashes strewn, and all uncomforted!
And Mary thou, and many women more!
This very day I see thee at my door;
Thine was the voice, an hour ago, that cried
From the next house, wherein a child has died!
The Demeter Of Praxiteles
Margaret Steele Anderson
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Poem topics: alone, child, grief, house, lonely, mother, voice, head, place, face, door, stone, Valentine's Day, thine, women, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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