How brave and enduring, how patient, how strong,
How longing for good and how fearful of wrong,
Is the love of thy mother!
Could I crown thee with riches! Surround, overflow thee
With fame and with power till the whole world should know thee;
With wisdom and genius to hold the world still,
To bring laughter and tears, joy and pain, at thy will,
Still—thou mightst not be happy!
Such have lived—and in sorrow. The greater the mind,
The wider and deeper the grief it can find.