Litchfield enquirer. [volume] (Litchfield, Conn.) 1829-current, 1832-12-20
MY MOTHERS GRAVE.

L.
ss MY MOTHERS GRAVE.
<se#H 81 had mother once, iik q yon,
Who ser my pillow hang, "
Kss'd from my check the hriny dew,
! se3 fe And taught my fateriny tongue.
| $50 Bot then there cane fearful day:
= sought thy mothers he'd, btsg n & svft@
Till harsh hands tore mdtIience away, 1.
And told me she was dead!
III was thirteen years since my mothers
death, when after a long absence from my
native village, stood beside. The sacred
mound beneath which 1 had seen her bu-
ried. Since that mourjiful period, great
changes have come over me. My child
ish years had passed away and with them
my youthful character. The world was
altered too; and, as + stood at my moth
lef's grave, I. could hardly realize that 1
Twas the same thoughtless happy creature,
Whose cheek she has SO often. kissed. III her
excess Of tenderness. But the variedre-
vents Of thirteen years had not efiaced the
Of that mother's smile. Y IL
seems as il / had seen her yesterday il
the blessed sound OF her voice was then in
my ear. The gay dreams of my infancy
and childhood were brought back so dis
tinctly to my mind. that had il not been for
one bitter recollection, the tears that ! shed
would have been gentle and refreshing
The circumstances may seem trifiAg one
but the thought ii, even now. agonizes
my heart; and relate il, that those chill
dren who have parents 20 love them, may
learn to value them as they ought.
My mother had been i'll long time
and / had become so much accustomed TO
her pale face, and weak voice, that ! was
not frightened at them, rs children usual
" are. AT first, it is true, / had sobbed
violen.ly--for they told me she would die
but when, day after day, I returned from
school, and found her the same, began to
believe she would always be spared to me.
Ono day when | had lost my place 10
the class, and done my work wrong-side
outward, came home discouraged and
ire,ful. wentinto my mothers chamber.
She was paler than usual, but she met me
with the same affec.ionate smile that al-
ways welcomed my return. Alas when !
look back through the lapse Of thirteen
wears. I think my heart must have been
stone, not to have melted by ii. She re-
quested me to 60 down stairs, and bring
her glass Of water. I pettishly asked
Why she did not call a domestic 10 do it,
With look Of mild reproach, which ]
shall never forget if sliyeto be an hun
dred years old, she said, s.And will not
my daughter bring glass ofwater for her
poor, sick motherl'
/ went and brought her the water, but
did NOT do it kindly. Instead Of smiling
and kissing her, as was wort TO do, | sat
the glass down quickly and left The room.
After playing short time, / went 10 bed
without bidding my mother" Good night s.
but, when alone in my room, in darkness
and silence, / remembered how pale she
locked. and how her voice 'treInbled when
she said. :. VIII not my daughter bring i
glass Of watcr for her poor, sick mother r.
I could not sleep-and l stole into her
chamber 10 ask her forgiveness. She had
Eiust sunk into an uneasy slumber. and they
told mel must not awaken her. Ibid not
tell any one what troubled me, bur stole
back 10 my bed, resolved stosriss early inI
the morning, and tell her how sorry Il was.l
for my conduct. @ s v
The sun was shining brightly when I q.
woke. and hurrying on my clothes. hast
ened 10 my mothers room. She never
spoke % me more-never smiled upon me
apain--.-aDd when 1 touched she. hand that
used, 70, resl upon my head in blessing. sit1
was SO cold that il made me start. bowl