Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky;Hundreds of shells on the shore together;Hundreds of birds that go singing by;Hundreds of bees in the sunny weather.Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the dawn;Hundreds of lambs in the purple clover;Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn;But only one mother the wide world over.
George Cooper · Only One
Comfort & remembrance
“Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky;”
- Author
- George Cooper
- Work
- Only One
- Found in
- An American Anthology, 1787–1900
- Year
- 1900
- Length
- 56 words
- Source
- Internet Archive scan of the first edition (Houghton, Mifflin, 1900), p. 588
Public domain. This passage is in the public domain. George Cooper died in 1927, more than 70 years ago, and the work was in print by 1900. You can copy, print, read aloud or sell it without asking permission; a credit is kind but not required. The text is copied word for word from the scanned printed edition linked here.
About this text. Printed as ‘Only One’ by George Cooper in Stedman’s An American Anthology (1900), the text given here. It is now usually called ‘Only One Mother’; some later books print it as anonymous, as ‘Our Mother’, or with ‘birds’ and ‘lambs’ swapped.
Related passages
Who fed me from her gentle breast,And hushed me in her arms to rest,And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?My mother.When sleep forsook my open eye,Who was it sung sweet hushaby,And rocked me that I should not cry?My mother.Who sat and watched my infant headWhen sleeping on my cradle bed,And tears of sweet affection shed?My mother.
O ye whose cheek the tear of pity stains,Draw near with pious rev’rence, and attend!Here lie the loving husband’s dear remains,The tender father, and the gen’rous friend;The pitying heart that felt for human woe,The dauntless heart that fear’d no human pride;The friend of man—to vice alone a foe;For “ev’n his failings lean’d to virtue’s side.”
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,As I foretold you, were all spirits andAre melted into air, into thin air:And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,The solemn temples, the great globe itself,Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuffAs dreams are made on, and our little lifeIs rounded with a sleep.
Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince,And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
Remember me when I am gone away,Gone far away into the silent land;When you can no more hold me by the hand,Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.Remember me when no more day by dayYou tell me of our future that you plann’d:Only remember me; you understandIt will be late to counsel then or pray.Yet if you should forget me for a whileAnd afterwards remember, do not grieve:For if the darkness and corruption leaveA vestige of the thoughts that once I had,Better by far you should forget and smileThan that you should remember and be sad.
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