ON THE DEATH OF MY MOTHER.
19
So much like life, that for a while
We scarcely could believe her dead.
We scarcely could believe her dead.
So calm she looked, her lips apart
Appeared as if about to move,
Some fond memento to impart,
Some parting token of her love.
Appeared as if about to move,
Some fond memento to impart,
Some parting token of her love.
Yet, mother, would thy mourning child
(Could she) recall thee here below,
Though then she cried, with anguish wild,
"Spare me, O God, this trial"?—No.
(Could she) recall thee here below,
Though then she cried, with anguish wild,
"Spare me, O God, this trial"?—No.
In mercy thou wert but removed
From sorrows yet to come, and woe;
And, fondly as thou wert beloved,
That very love would answer, No.
From sorrows yet to come, and woe;
And, fondly as thou wert beloved,
That very love would answer, No.
Farewell, dear mother! thou art blest;
Thou slumberest with the peaceful dead;
And oft thy child, with grief opprest,
Would lay by thine her weary head.
Thou slumberest with the peaceful dead;
And oft thy child, with grief opprest,
Would lay by thine her weary head.
