A woman trudges along a rough road, utterly drained and heartsick. Her face is wild with strain. One small child totters barefoot beside her; an infant, cold and shrieking with hunger, is strapped to her back. The speaker doesn't just describe this — he talks directly to her, calling her a "way-wanderer" and "woe-begone mother," which makes the moment feel intensely personal and full of pity. There's a tangle of emotions in her: half anger at her helplessness, half agony. Snow lashes her gaunt face as she glances back, trying desperately to quiet the crying baby. Then the speaker pulls back to a devastating fact: her husband is dead from the war, and she is now a widow. The final lines compare her hopeless heart to the coldness of charity, and the bleak, starving children are left to fate — "God help thee." The whole scene creates a mood of raw, physical suffering and emotional numbness, set in a winter that seems to have no end.
The Soldier's Wife — Summary
Weary way-wanderer languid and sick at heart Travelling painfully over the rugged road, Wild-visag'd Wanderer! ah for thy heavy chance!
Sorely thy little one drags by thee bare-footed, Cold is the baby that hangs at thy bending back Meagre and livid and screaming its wretchedness.
Woe-begone mother, half anger, half agony, As over thy shoulder thou lookest to hush the babe, Bleakly the blinding snow beats in thy hagged face.
Thy husband will never return from the war again, Cold is thy hopeless heart even as Charity-- Cold are thy famish'd babes--God help thee, widow'd One!