My parents bow, and lead them forth,
For all the crowd to see—
Ah well! the people might not care
To cheer a dwarf like me.
They little know how I could love,
How I could plan and toil,
To swell those drudges’ scanty gains,
Their mites of rye and oil.
They little know what dreams have been
My playmates, night and day;
Of equal kindness, helpful care,
A mother’s perfect sway.
Now earth to earth in convent walls,
To earth in churchyard sod:
I was not good enough for man,
And so am given to God.
Bertrich in the Eifel, 1851.
(Charles Kingsley)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Man Poems, God Poems, Night Poems, Mothers Poems, People Poems, Compassion PoemsBased on Keywords: mites, see-, drudges, eifel, bertrich