Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
‘She must weep or she will die.’
Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.
Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.
Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee—
Like summer tempest came her tears—
‘Sweet my child, I live for thee.’
I had to read this over again before I got the message here.. It was a bit complicated though but you did great on this.. Kudos...
Why didn't you add any image?... Images in a way matters a lot.. Try to always add images on your post.
Ok
Beautiful and nice story, but for the next poem use an image so that it has much more vividness and has more impact, greetings ♥