The Mother Who Died, Too
E. Cheng
She was so little – little in her grave,
The wide earth all around so hard and cold –
She was so little! therefore did I crave
My arms might still her tender form enfold.
She was so little, and her cry so weak
When she among the heavenly children came –
She was so little – I alone might speak
For her who knew no word nor her own name.