Poems (Betham)/The Mother

by Matilda Betham

For works with similar titles, see The Mother.

THE MOTHER. ——

"And beats my heart again with joy!
 And dances now my spirit light!
The skiff that holds my darling boy
 This moment burst upon my sight!

Not yet distinctly I perceive
 Amid the crew his well-known form,
But still his safety I believe,
 I know he has escap'd the storm.

I feel as if my heart had wings,
 And tender from excess of bliss,
His form, which airy fancy brings,
 In fond emotion seem to kiss.

Welcome the wild, imperfect rest,
 Which these bewilder'd spirits share!
Welcome this tumult of the breast,
 After the shudder of despair!

My Robert he is brave and strong,
 He will these flowing tears reprove.
Alas! how little know the young,
 The tremor of a Mother's love.

For we are weak from many a care,
 From many a sleepless, anxious hour,
When fear and hope the bosom tear,
 And ride the brain with fevering power.

But lo! he cheerly waves his hand!
 I hear his voice! I see his face!
And eager now he springs to land,
 To meet a Mother's fond embrace!

This failing heart! but joy to me,
 If heaven in pity is thy guard;
And of the pangs I feel for thee,
 Protection be the dear reward!"