The Mysteries

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Title:     The Mysteries
Author: William Dean Howells [More Titles by Howells]

Once on my mother's breast, a child, I crept,
Holding my breath;
There, safe and sad, lay shuddering, and wept
At the dark mystery of Death.

Weary and weak, and worn with all unrest,
Spent with the strife,--
O mother, let me weep upon thy breast
At the sad mystery of Life!

[The end]
William Dean Howells's poem: Mysteries

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