From my Mother.
When shall those hours whose loss I dread,
Return to soothe my aching heart?
Ah! never more; for stifled sighs
Announce that soon, too soon, we part.
Maternal cares, and anxious fears,
Alternate fill my sorrowing breast;
And many a sigh, and many a tear,
Moisten my pillow, and impede my rest.
Supported by affections dear,
The casual frowning of the world I brave;
’Tis only where I truly, fondly love,
That disappointment can my peace invade.
My children are my treasures, whence I draw
All I can know of happiness below:
And O! how rich, if certain there to find,
Not wealth of gold, but sterling wealth of mind.
’Twas you, my Jane, who were my first fond hope,
And smiling, told the blessing you had brought.
Though years on years have passed since that glad hour,
A mother’s memory still retains the power
To bring thy infant image to her view,
Such as it was, and such as since it grew.
Matured in education, and in life,
I view thee now a mother and a wife.
Grant that these duties with thy pleasures blend,
The wife at heart, not only wife, but friend.
These sacred ties, these precious gifts of heaven,
The first of human comforts to be given,
Cherish with care; and let affection bring
Thy share of love to make it ever spring.
Nourish the sentiments thy principles approve,
And put thy trust and confidence in God.