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Poem by Dinah Maria Craik The Mother’s Visit LONG years ago she visited my chamber, Steps soft and slow, a taper in her hand; Her fond kiss she laid upon my eyelids, Fair as an angel from the unknown land: Mother, mother, is it thou I see? Mother, mother, watching over me. And yesternight I saw her cross my chamber, Soundless as light, a palm-branch in her hand; Her mild eyes she bent upon my anguish, Calm as an angel from the blessed land; Mother, mother, is it thou I see? Mother, mother, art thou come for me? Dinah Maria Craik Dinah Maria Craik's other poems: 1213 Views |
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