Imatges de pÓgina


From Lily Leaves. MOTHER, in this strange city, this Babylon of

strife, Midst the din and rolling mist of the battle

field of life, I often pause to think of thee; and thoughts,

with mystic flight, Carry me back on wings of love to days of past

delight. I dream I see thy loving eyes look fondly into

mine, Those eyes that beam'd with sacred light o'er

words and works divine; I dream thou still art smiling 'midst the spring flowers young

and fair, Once nurtured by thy loving hand, and tended

by thy care. Oh! still in thought I see thee- I hear thy

fond 'good night;' I see thy smiling countenance, that thrill'd me

with delight; I hear the echo of thy voice, in accents low

and sweet; And I cannot help but fancy that again we

soon shall meet.


But, oh! 'tis only memory-I know that, cold

and chill, They laid our treasure in the dust in the bosom

of the hill; Pale are the cheeks o'er which once beamed,

like sunbeams o'er the sea, The tenderest, dearest smiles of love that earth

can give to me. I often pray'd when thou wert here that God

would take me first, And in my selfish heart this hope with miser

care I nursed; And, oh! if sinful be such thoughts, I pray to

be forgiven, Yet would that God would take me too, or

bring thee back from heaven. I dare not think that o'er thy head the stone

of death is rolled ; That now thy dear, dear fingers are as frozen

snowdrops cold; That the lips are clos'd for ever that press’d thy

loving child, That hush'd for ever is the voice that all my

cares beguiled. Oh no! 'twere sinful if I thought of thee like

this alone, Thou bright inhabitant of heaven, before the

Father's throne;

For though without the gate, in tears, my

thoughts rise from the sod, I know that thou art gone to rest with the

household of our God. And though thou dwellest here no more, still

darling mother mine, Smile on me from the world of light a smile of

peace divine; Oh, touch me with thine angel-wings, as with

a kiss of love, And often come to me in dreams, sweet mother,

from above.

Yes, mother! be as thou hast been-my guar

dian angel here; Subdue my grief, bring strength from heaven,

and wipe the falling tear; And if I cannot, night and morn, feel now thy

fond caress, 0, mother, from the realms of bliss, cease not

thy child to bless.


Two angels, one of Life and one of Death,

Pass' o'er the village as the morning broke;
The dawn was on their faces, and be eath
The sombre houses hearsed with plumes of


Their attitude and aspect was the same,

Alike their features, and their robes of white; But one was crowned with amaranth, as with

flame, And one with asphodels, like flakes of light.

I saw them pause on their celestial way; Then said I, with deep fear and doubt

oppressed : • Beat not so loud, my heart, lest thou betray

The place where thy beloved are at rest!'

And he who wore the crown of asphodels,

Descending, at my door began to knock; And my soul sunk within me, as in wells

The waters sink before an earthquake shock.

I recognised the nameless agony,

The terror and the tremor and the pain, That oft before had filled and haunted me, And now returned with three-fold strength


The door I opened to my heavenly guest,
And listen'd, for I thought I heard God's

And knowing whatsoe'er he sent was best,

Dared neither to lament or to rejoice.

Finci E she gatz, in tears, my

Duis Itu se sod, : * D * gube to rest with the

LOS cc Gai IN I er bare no more, still

is mz I. imit me n tro is ruid get a szile of je rodi v stik angel-viss, as with

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