Ah, empty are the mother's arms
Which clasp a vanished form;
A darling spared from life's alarms,
And safe from earthly storm.
In absent reverie, she hears
That voice, nor can forget;
The fond illusion disappears,--
Her arms are empty, yet.
Empty Are The Mother's Arms.
Alfred Castner King
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Poem topics: life, mother, voice, storm, forget, illusion, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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