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Poems (Odom)/My Pictures

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4713414Poems — My PicturesMary Hunt McCaleb Odom
MY PICTURES.

[Inscribed to my brother and sister, Mr. and Mrs. H. S. Hunt, of San Francisco, Cal.]

While my heart is softly singingTo itself a low-toned song,And the white waves of remembranceSurge within it deep and strong;Tossing upward to the surfacePearly pleasures I have lost,I can hear the gentle murmurOf the waters I have crossed.
Of the sunny stream of childhoodThat has flown so far away;Rippling, sparkling in the sunlightOf a pure and cloudless day,Gliding through the shifting shadows,Gleaming beautiful and bright—Speeding onward through the meadowsLike a living thing of light.
Ah! so strong is the remembranceThat I almost seem to be,Once again among the childrenGathered at my Mother's knee;And how lovingly she foldedEach bright head upon her breast,But we always knew that MotherLoved her only boy the best.
Our brave, honest-hearted brother,How his merry boyish faceRises up to-day before me,In its old accustomed place.But there came a day of parting,Full of sorrow and of pain,When he knelt before our MotherAs he never may again.
And she clasped him to her bosomWith a low, heart-broken cry,Feeling quite the bitter anguishOf his death in that "good-bye."Time, with all its many changes,And its years, cannot destroyThe sad picture of our MotherParting from her only boy.
I can see our white-haired FatherLay his hands upon his head;I can almost hear the falterOf the last few words he said.But a murmur, low and broken,Bidding God-speed to his son—The sire had almost finishedWhen the boy had just begun.
How the years have glided onwardLike the ocean, wave on wave:Summer roses long have blossomedSweetly over Father's grave,And across the rolling prairie,From beside the sunset sea,Came to-day two pictured faces,Full of happy light to me.
One so handsome, frank, and noble,Full of manhood's honest pride;One so fair and sweet and girlish—Like my brother and his bride.In the manly face before me,Wearing all its bridal joy;I can trace the perfect likenessOf the happy-hearted boy.
Something older, somewhat graver—'Tis the same, yet not the same—Like the glowing of a fireThat has lost its flushing flame.Ah! these youthful, pictured facesBring a gladness to my life,As my heart in fond affectionFolds my brother and his wife.

Galveston, Texas, June 11, 1880.