The Mother

Poem By Patrick Henry Pearse

I do not grudge them: Lord, I do not grudge
My two strong sons that I have seen go out
To break their strength and die, they and a few,
In bloody protest for a glorious thing,
They shall be spoken of among their people,
The generations shall remember them,
And call them blessed;
But I will speak their names to my own heart
In the long nights;
The little names that were familiar once
Round my dead hearth.
Lord, thou art hard on mothers:
We suffer in their coming and their going;
And tho' I grudge them not, I weary, weary
Of the long sorrow-And yet I have my joy:
My sons were faithful, and they fought.

Comments about The Mother

R. I. P.
I learned this is School, I come from they City where the two Pearce brother were born and were Executed, Mrs Kennedy kept a copy of this with her always, to Honour HER son's J, F and Robert
My heart aches when I read this poignant poem.It bodes well to remember with pride, the sacrifice others have made so we could have freedom
My heart aches when I read this poignant poem, so beautifully and sensitively written, to try and, give some comfort to his mother, after her boys death, which, he had obviously anticipated.
So sad, so moving, powerful poem.


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Other poems of PEARSE

The Wayfarer

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This beauty that will pass;
Sometimes my heart hath shaken with great joy
To see a leaping squirrel in a tree,

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Mise Éire:
Sine mé ná an Chailleach Bhéarra.

Mór mo ghlóir:
Mé a rug Cú Chulainn cróga.

Why Do Ye Torture Me?

Why are ye torturing me, O desires of my heart?
Torturing me and paining me by day and by night?
Hunting me as a poor deer would be hunted on a hill,

Bean Sléibhe Ag Caoineadh A Mhac (A Woman Of The Mountain Keens Her Son)

Grief on the death, it has blackened my heart:
lt has snatched my love and left me desolate,
Without friend or companion under the roof of my house
But this sorrow in the midst of me, and I keening.

The Fool

Since the wise men have not spoken, I speak that am only a fool;
A fool that hath loved his folly,
Yea, more than the wise men their books or their counting houses or their quiet homes,
Or their fame in men's mouths;