Farewell, farewell, to my mother's own daughter.
The child that she wet-nursed is lapp'd in the wave;
The Mussulman, coming to fish in this water,
Adds a tear to the flood that weeps over her grave.
This sack is her coffin, this water's her bier,
This grayish bath cloak is her funeral pall;
And, stranger, O stranger! this song that you hear
Is her epitaph, elegy, dirges, and all!
Farewell, farewell, to the child of Al Hassan,
My mother's own daughter - the last of her race -
She's a corpse, the poor body! and lies in this basin,
And sleeps in the water that washes her face.
The Water Peri's Song
Thomas Hood
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Poem topics: elegy, fish, funeral, poor, song, hear, face, tear, grave, body, child, daughter, mother, I love you, I miss you, stranger, water, farewell, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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