Poems (Hardy)/A foster mother's thought
A FOSTER MOTHER'S THOUGHT
MOTHER NATURE took a census, once, to see
If on the earth there could a mother be
Who loved her only child as much as she
Loved Earth, her child, in her entirety,
And,—joy to think!—she counted me.
If on the earth there could a mother be
Who loved her only child as much as she
Loved Earth, her child, in her entirety,
And,—joy to think!—she counted me.
For, when she listened at my heart, she heard,—
If prayer it was, or wish, or loving word,
Or any daring hope that in it lived and stirred,—
Some tender thought for him, the gentle youth,
Who is to me a loving son in truth.
If prayer it was, or wish, or loving word,
Or any daring hope that in it lived and stirred,—
Some tender thought for him, the gentle youth,
Who is to me a loving son in truth.
And so she counted me, and never knew
I had no vested right within the line she drew
Round mothers who have title full and true;
She counted me, and placed me in that radiant row
Of mothers who her large way of loving know.
I had no vested right within the line she drew
Round mothers who have title full and true;
She counted me, and placed me in that radiant row
Of mothers who her large way of loving know.