The Madisonian. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1845, 1838-08-01
THE DYING MOTHER.


On breezy pnon mourful Eve came singing
Over the silent hills, and to the gades
And violet beds a stream Of odours bringing,
And waking music in the forest shades
For twas the time when the lone cotter vending
His silent Len way along the foot-path dim
Sought his loved home, where gentle voices blend
Sent up the music Of an evening hymn.
A lovely length Of moon-lt waters lightly
Broke into sudden brightness on the strand,
While thro' the skys soft feecy fret work, brightly
The stars looked out upon the Silly land;
But sadly meath them cleaned two lovely faces
(Ohl fearful things and sad the stars TO see)
For they were strangers, roaming thro strange
A mother with her boy beside her knee.
Her only shelter was the blue arched heaven,
As 70 her child's she bent her earnest face,
For well she knew another whispering even
Would find her form thing Of Deaths embrace: !.
And, as she saw the quyering iear-drop springing[
Into his eyes, and heard him ask for bread, ZC
Swim thoughts like lightning thro her brain IS1t
winging, IA
head G =
Boyi would fain return thy fond caresses,
But must put thee from my heart away, W.
On the cold earth to lay, 70
And tho upon thee Hunger harshly presses,
Planting within thee deep Its gnawing fangs,
lcannot stay thy pangs.
For have wandered till Tam worn and weary,
Seeking shelter for Thy little head u.
Or spare crust Of bread,
But have found none and now, heart sick and dreary
! lay me down beneath the quiet sky
To bless thee, boy, and die.
II is, alas! a mournful thing to leave thee.
In this cold world to thy young thoughts alone,
For oh when am gone
No smiling mother will at eve receive thee,
Bending DER thy hushed lip and folded eye
Alas, that must die!
But thou wilt think upon the prayer taught thee,
When life with us flowed smoothly as song
Our native hills among 81
And how al noon-tide have often brought thee,
In thy young beauty 70 thy fathers side,
With all mothers pride.
And when for rest thou seeks rich mans dwell
Should he from his bright mansion bid thee fee,
Speaking harsh things 10 thee
Let not thy heart with dark despair be swelling,
For soft to thee viii be the velvet sod,
II thou wilt trust in God.
And each pale lily, DER the waters STOPPING,
From its pure aabasler vase will shed
A CLEAN about thy head ."... s
And the red berries in rich clusters dropping
From many Bonded bough in this dark wood
Will be thy fragrant food. H..
For thou must wander by each low-voiced river,
And school thy timid heart TO be alone
81 when the night-winds make moam
And when the forest leaves above thee shiver
To calmly lay thee meath their solemn shade,
And not 10 be afraid. ~"
For He, who in his glory dwells above thee,
Who tempereih the wind TO the shorn lamb,
With deep Sabbath calm ELL.
Will fill thy heart, and in his mercy love thee,
And on thy weakness: bend plying eye,
And in thy need draw nigh. ~.
And now, farewelll the early morn will wake thee
Unto fearful sight, thy mother, child,
Dead in forest-wid; "- ,.. y.
and sudden sorrow, like storm, will shake thee,
But efod Will stiil the tempest in thy breast
A blessing on thee rest!
AMELIA