Poems (Davidson)/To my Dear Mother in Sickness

by Lucretia Maria Davidson

TO MY DEAR MOTHER IN SICKNESS.

Hang not thy harp upon the willow; Mourn not a brighter, happier day:But touch the chord, and life's wild billow Will, shrinking, foam its shame away.

Then strike the chord and raise the strain Which brightens that dark clouded brow;O! beam one sunshine smile again, And I'll forgive thy sadness now.

Though darkness, gloom, and doubt surround thee, Thy bark, though frail, shall safely ride;The storm and whirlwind may rage round thee, But thou wilt all their wrath abide.

Hang not thy harp upon the willow Which weeps o'er every passing wave;Though life is but a restless pillow, There's calm and peace beyond the grave.