The Mother's Lament at the Slaughter of the Innocents
"Why are you tearingAway to his doom,The child of my caring,The fruit of my womb.Till nine months were o'erHis burden I bore,Then his pretty lips pressedThe glad milk from my breast,And my whole heart he filled,And my whole life he thrilled.
All my strength dies,My tongue speechless lies,Darkened are my eyes!His breath was the breath of me;His death is the death of me."
"'Tis my own son that from me you wring,I deceived not the King.
But slay me, even me,And let my boy be.A mother most hapless,My bosom is sapless,Mine eyes one tearful river,My frame one fearful, shiver,My husband sonless ever,And I a sonless wifeTo live a death in life.
O my son! O God of Truth!O my unrewarded youth,O my birthless sicknessesUntil doom without redress.O my bosom's silent nest,O the heart broke in my breast."
"Murderers, obeyingHerod's wicked willing,One ye would be slaying,Many are ye killing.Infants would ye smother?Ruffian, ye have ratherWounded many a father,Slaughtered many a mother.Hell's black jaws your horrid deed is glutting,Heaven's white gate against your black souls shutting.Ye are guilty of the Great Offence!Ye have spilled the blood of Innocence."
"O Lord Christ, come to me!Nay, no longer tarry!With my son home to TheeMy soul quickly carry.O Mary great, O Mary mild,Of God's One Son the Mother,What shall I do without my child?For I have now no other.For Thy Son's sake my son they slew,Those murderers inhuman;My sense and soul they slaughtered too,I am but a crazy woman.Yea, after that most piteous slaughter,When my babe's life ran out like water,The heart within my bosom hath becomeA clot of blood from this day till the Doom!"
Words in this poem
- womb n.
- The belly; the abdomen. [OE. wombe, wambe, AS. wamb, womb; akin to D. wam belly, OS. & OHG. wamba, G. wamme, wampe, Icel. vömb, Sw. v&mb, Dan. vom, Goth. wamba.]
- speechless a.
- Destitute or deprived of the faculty of speech.
- hapless a.
- Without hap or luck; luckless; unfortunate; unlucky; unhappy; as, hapless youth; hapless maid.
- sapless a.
- Destitute of sap; not juicy.
- tearful a.
- Abounding with tears; weeping; shedding tears; as, tearful eyes.
- sonless a.
- Being without a son. Marston.
- birthless a.
- Of mean extraction.
- broke v. i.
- To transact business for another. Brome. [See Broker, and cf. Brook.]
- horrid a.
- Rough; rugged; bristling. [L. horridus. See Horror, and cf. Ordure.]
- offence n.
- The act of offending in any sense; esp., a crime or a sin, an affront or an injury. [F., fr. L. offensa. See Offend.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Mother's Lament at the Slaughter of the Innocents is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poem-Book of the Gael Translations from Irish Gaelic Poetry into English Prose and Verse, Project Gutenberg ebook #46917; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Eleanor Hull, The Mother's Lament at the Slaughter of the Innocents, in The Poem-Book of the Gael (1912), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #46917, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hull-gael/the-mother-s-lament-at-the-slaughter-of-the-innocents.html, id L11706.
Form and metre
The Mother's Lament at the Slaughter of the Innocents is 60 lines in 7 stanzas. The metre is iambic trimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 82%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 6.9 syllables. 30 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 15% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic trimeter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABAB--CCDD tearingA · doomB · caringA · wombB · o'er · bore · pressedC · breastC · filledD · thrilledD
- 2 AAABB diesA · liesA · eyesA · meB · meB
- 3 AA wringA · kingA
- 4 AABBCC-DD meA · beA · haplessB · saplessB · riverC · shiverC · ever · wifeD · lifeD
- 5 AA--BB truthA · youthA · sicknesses · redress · nestB · breastB
- 6 ABABCC-CDDEE obeyingA · willingB · slayingA · killingB · smotherC · ratherC · father · motherC · gluttingD · shuttingD · offenceE · innocenceE
- 7 ABABCDCDE-E-FF-- meA · tarryB · theeA · carryB · mildC · motherD · childC · otherD · slewE · inhuman · tooE · woman · slaughterF · waterF · become · doom
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic trimeter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| "Why are you tearing | 5 | ···/˘ |
| Away to his doom, | 5 | ˘/··· |
| The child of my caring, | 6 | ····/˘ |
| The fruit of my womb. | 5 | ····· |
| Till nine months were o'er | 5 | ····· |
| His burden I bore, | 5 | ·/˘·· |
| Then his pretty lips pressed | 7 | ··/˘··˘ |
| The glad milk from my breast, | 6 | ······ |
| And my whole heart he filled, | 7 | ······˘ |
| And my whole life he thrilled. | 7 | ······˘ |
| All my strength dies, | 4 | ···· |
| My tongue speechless lies, | 5 | ··/˘· |
| Darkened are my eyes! | 5 | /˘··· |
| His breath was the breath of me; | 7 | ······· |
| His death is the death of me." | 7 | ······· |
| "'Tis my own son that from me you wring, | 9 | ········· |
| I deceived not the King. | 7 | ·˘/˘··· |
| But slay me, even me, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And let my boy be. | 5 | ····· |
| A mother most hapless, | 6 | ·/˘·/˘ |
| My bosom is sapless, | 6 | ·/˘·/˘ |
| Mine eyes one tearful river, | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| My frame one fearful, shiver, | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| My husband sonless ever, | 7 | ·/˘/˘/˘ |
| And I a sonless wife | 6 | ···/˘· |
| To live a death in life. | 6 | ······ |
| O my son! O God of Truth! | 7 | ······· |
| O my unrewarded youth, | 7 | ······· |
| O my birthless sicknesses | 7 | ··/˘/˘˘ |
| Until doom without redress. | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| O my bosom's silent nest, | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| O the heart broke in my breast." | 7 | ······· |
| "Murderers, obeying | 6 | /˘˘˘/˘ |
| Herod's wicked willing, | 7 | /˘/˘˘/˘ |
| One ye would be slaying, | 6 | ····/˘ |
| Many are ye killing. | 6 | /˘··/˘ |
| Infants would ye smother? | 6 | /˘··/˘ |
| Ruffian, ye have rather | 6 | /˘··/˘ |
| Wounded many a father, | 7 | /˘/˘·/˘ |
| Slaughtered many a mother. | 8 | /˘˘/˘·/˘ |
| Hell's black jaws your horrid deed is glutting, | 10 | ····/˘··/˘ |
| Heaven's white gate against your black souls shutting. | 11 | /˘·······/˘ |
| Ye are guilty of the Great Offence! | 9 | ··/˘···˘/ |
| Ye have spilled the blood of Innocence." | 9 | ······/˘˘ |
| "O Lord Christ, come to me! | 6 | ······ |
| Nay, no longer tarry! | 6 | ··/˘/˘ |
| With my son home to Thee | 6 | ······ |
| My soul quickly carry. | 6 | ··/˘/˘ |
| O Mary great, O Mary mild, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Of God's One Son the Mother, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| What shall I do without my child? | 8 | ········ |
| For I have now no other. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| For Thy Son's sake my son they slew, | 8 | ········ |
| Those murderers inhuman; | 7 | ·/˘˘˘/˘ |
| My sense and soul they slaughtered too, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| I am but a crazy woman. | 8 | ····/˘/˘ |
| Yea, after that most piteous slaughter, | 10 | ·····/˘˘/˘ |
| When my babe's life ran out like water, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| The heart within my bosom hath become | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| A clot of blood from this day till the Doom!" | 10 | ·········· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.