Author John Banister Tabb Shall she come down, and on our level stand? Nay; God forbid it! May a mother's eyes — Lovers earliest home, the heaven of Babyland — Forever bend above us as we rise. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments