To my Mother by Forrester

[It is hardly necessary to say that too much tenderness cannot be imparted to the voice while reading these beautiful lines. The heart that recalls a departed mother's memory will be the best monitor.]


GIVE me my old seat, mother,

With my head upon thy knee;

I've passed through many a changing scene,

Since thus I sat by thee.

Oh! let me look into thine eyes;

Their meek, soft, loving light

Falls like a gleam of holiness,

Upon my heart, to-night.

I've not been long away, mother;

Few suns have risen and set,

Since last the tear-drop on thy cheek,

My lips in kisses met.

'Tis but a little time, I know,

But very long it seems;

Though every night I came to thee,

Dear mother, in my dreams.

The world has kindly dealt, mother,

By the child thou lov'st so well;

 

The prayers have circled round her path;

And 'twas their holy spell

Which made that path so dearly bright;

Which strewed the roses there;

Which gave the light, and cast the balm

On every breath of air.

I bear a happy heart, mother;

A happier never beat;

And, even now, new buds of hope

Are bursting at my feet.

Oh! mother! life may be a dream;

But if such dreams are given,

While at the portals thus we stand,

What are the truths of Heaven?

I bear a happy heart, mother!

Yet, when fond eyes I see,

And hear soft tones and winning words,

I ever think of thee.

And then, the tears my spirit weeps

Unbidden fill my eye;

And, like a houseless dove, I long

Unto thy breast to fly.

Then I am very sad, mother,

I'm very sad and lone:

O! there's no heart whose inmost fold

Opes to me like thine own!

Though sunny smiles wreath blooming lips,

While love-tones meet my ear;

My mother, one fond glance of thine

Were thousand times more dear.

Then with a closer clasp, mother,

Now hold me to thy heart:

I'll feel it beating 'gainst my own,

Once more before we part.

And mother, to this love-lit spot,

When I am far away,

Come oft—too oft thou canst not come!

And for thy darling pray.