Classic Poem

'Tis right the sun should shine, the blossoms blow,
Though, mother, thou art gone:
'Tis right the stream of life should still flow on
And who am I to say thou dost not know?

The spring that comes may bring
Not only joy to man, but joy to thee.
'Tis well that once again should smile the sea,
The birds once more with unchanged sweetness.

When in the fields and lanes
Once, more the cowslips and the kingcups blow,
Mother, I will not say thou dost not know,—
I will not say no sunlit spot remains.

Renew thy wondrous tints, thou radiant rose,
And thou, white lily, don thy tenderest white!
My mother loves, my mother knows:
Wear lovelier robes, to gladden keener sight.