Mother Wept
By Joseph Skipsey
(Contemporary English poet, whose work possesses a quaint simplicity, often suggesting Blake)
Mother wept, and father sighed;
With delight a-glow
Cried the lad, “Tomorrow,” cried,
“To the pit I go.”
Up and down the place he sped,—
Greeted old and young;
Far and wide the tidings spread;
Clapped his hands and sung.
Came his cronies; some to gaze
Rapt in wonder; some
Free with counsel; some with praise;
Some with envy dumb.
“May he,” many a gossip cried,
“Be from peril kept;”
Father hid his face and sighed,
Mother turned and wept.