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Botticelli's Madonna in the Louvre

Edith Wharton 1862 (New York City) – 1937 (Saint-Brice-sous-Forêt)



WHAT strange presentiment, O Mother, lies
On thy waste brow and sadly-folded lips,
Forefeeling the Light's terrible eclipse
On Calvary, as if love made thee wise,
And thou couldst read in those dear infant eyes
The sorrow that beneath their smiling sleeps,
And guess what bitter tears a mother weeps
When the cross darkens her unclouded skies?

Sad Lady, if some mother, passing thee,
Should feel a throb of thy foreboding pain,
And think - 'My child at home clings so to me,
With the same smile . . . and yet in vain, in vain,
Since even this Jesus died on Calvary' -
Say to her then: 'He also rose again.'

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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Edith Wharton

Edith Wharton (born Edith Newbold Jones) was an American novelist, short story writer, and designer. Wharton drew upon her insider's knowledge of the upper class New York "aristocracy" to realistically portray the lives and morals of the Gilded Age. In 1921, she became the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for Literature. She was inducted into the National Women's Hall of Fame in 1996. more…

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    "Botticelli's Madonna in the Louvre" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 27 Jun 2022. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/9074/botticelli%27s-madonna-in-the-louvre>.

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