Passion Flowers (Watson)/A Mother's Quest
A Mother's Quest.
Oh! where has he gone, with his golden hair,
And his blue, blue eyes, I pray?
These classic aisles, with their sombre piles,
Have many a darksome way.
And his blue, blue eyes, I pray?
These classic aisles, with their sombre piles,
Have many a darksome way.
Oh! how shall I find, ye sages wise—
I have searched this crowded place;—
The boy who left my sheltering arms
With the love light on his face.
I have searched this crowded place;—
The boy who left my sheltering arms
With the love light on his face.
He came in the flush of his boyish pride,
His heart unstained and true;
No worldly blot was upon his soul,
I trusted my boy to you.
His heart unstained and true;
No worldly blot was upon his soul,
I trusted my boy to you.
I've searched through all the dim, dim aisles
And over the campus green;
A youth I met who clasped my hand,
But my boy I have not seen.
And over the campus green;
A youth I met who clasped my hand,
But my boy I have not seen.
The youth bowed low, in a courtly way,
And spoke with an accent low,
But his eye held not the tender light
Of the boy's I used to know.
And spoke with an accent low,
But his eye held not the tender light
Of the boy's I used to know.
I came, for my ceaseless longing grew
So strong I could not wait;
You do not know a mother's heart,
Though your learning be so great.
So strong I could not wait;
You do not know a mother's heart,
Though your learning be so great.
But sure, with all your cunning lore,
And all your wondrous art,
You'll find the lad, though you cannot see
His picture in my heart.
And all your wondrous art,
You'll find the lad, though you cannot see
His picture in my heart.
You cannot give me back my boy!
You cannot grant my plea—
Alas!—I will long through all the days
For the boy you took from me.
You cannot grant my plea—
Alas!—I will long through all the days
For the boy you took from me.