Classic Poem

O little blade of grass,
A little sword thou art,
That, in thy haste to pass,
Hast pierced thy Mother's heart.
O little blade of grass,
A little tongue thou art
Of cleaving flame—alas,
Thou hast cleft thy Mother's heart.
O little blade, upcurled
Leaf, sword, or fiery dart,
To win thy Father's world
Thou must break thy Mother's heart.