Mothers In The Garden

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Title:     Mothers In The Garden
Author: Laurence Alma-Tadema [More Titles by Alma-Tadema]

I

Wagtail--pied Wagtail--
What tremor's in your breast?
On nimble feet, when we draw near,
You run about to hide your fear,
As if to say: There's nothing here,
I have no nest....

Wagtail--pied Wagtail--
We too their voices heard;
Away then to the water-side,
And fetch the food for which they cried;
From us there is no need to hide,
My dainty bird.

II

The thrushes' nest has fallen
From the ivy on the wall:
The dear blue eggs are broken,
All broken by the fall.

But we heard a song at sundown
That said: O tears are vain!--
And babe and I ceased grieving:
We think they will build again.

[The end]
Laurence Alma-Tadema's poem: Mothers In The Garden

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