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.