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TO MY MOTHER IN HEAVEN.
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
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,
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.
THE TWO ANGELS.
Pass' o'er the village as the morning broke;
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,
Dared neither to lament or to rejoice.