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.