"The Mothers of the World."
We aro the mothers of the world. Draw near And eoe our anguish, ye who prate of war I To keep our country's honour bright and clear, It is our share to give the sons we bore!
Oli, baby feet, that ran to us in play, Oh, baby hands that clung to us in fear; Bloodstained and rugged is your patli to-day, And if you call to us, wc cannot hear. Our hands would reach to you beyond the night, Our hearts would follow, yet 'tis all in vain. We cannot shield you through the bitter fight, Love cannot hush your new-found sob of pain. Oh, baby lips, that call from out the past, Dear God, and was that joy then only lent? Oh, lives wo loved, the darkness holds you fast, Our arms arc empty, and our dreams are spent. —Margaret Petersen.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/LDC19170927.2.18
Bibliographic details
Levin Daily Chronicle, 27 September 1917, Page 4
Word Count
148"The Mothers of the World." Levin Daily Chronicle, 27 September 1917, Page 4
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