MY MOTHER.
119
Of time; the burden of existence falls
Upon a heart too weak and faint to bear
Its cares and agonies; and oh, she longs
To come to thee, and weep away her griefs
Upon thy sainted bosom. Be the first,
Oh mother, be the first to catch the sound
Of her young footsteps through the shadowy vale
Of death, and clasp her in thy blessed arms
In thy own Eden.
Upon a heart too weak and faint to bear
Its cares and agonies; and oh, she longs
To come to thee, and weep away her griefs
Upon thy sainted bosom. Be the first,
Oh mother, be the first to catch the sound
Of her young footsteps through the shadowy vale
Of death, and clasp her in thy blessed arms
In thy own Eden.
Mother, from thy home
Above, look down in pity on thy child,
Thy lonely orphan wanderer. Shelter her
With thy angelic wing in her sad stay
Upon the earth; breathe strength from thy high soul
Into her soul; oh speak to her in dreams,
When sleep has rent her earthly fetters; tell
Her spirit of the bright, the better land;
And keep her heart in all its wanderings pure
From the dark stains of this mortality.
Above, look down in pity on thy child,
Thy lonely orphan wanderer. Shelter her
With thy angelic wing in her sad stay
Upon the earth; breathe strength from thy high soul
Into her soul; oh speak to her in dreams,
When sleep has rent her earthly fetters; tell
Her spirit of the bright, the better land;
And keep her heart in all its wanderings pure
From the dark stains of this mortality.
Louisville, Oct 25.
