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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=416573" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Being His Mother</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=416573" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Being his mother--when he goes away<br>I would not hold him overlong, and so<br>Sometimes my yielding sight of him grows O<br>So quick of tears, I joy he did not stay<br>To catch the faintest rumor of them! Nay,<br>Leave always his eyes clear and glad, although<br>Mine own, dear Lord, do fill to overflow;<br>Let his remembered features, as I pray,<br>Smile ever on me! Ah! what stress of love<br>Thou givest me to guard with Thee thiswise:<br>Its fullest speech ever to be denied<br>Mine own--being his mother! All thereof<br>Thou knowest only, looking from the skies<br>As when not Christ alone was crucified.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</a></strong></div>

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