North Carolina standard. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1850-1852, 1851-04-05
MOTHER, HOME, AND HEAVEN
BY MISS .. VIRGINIA. SMITH.


Mother mine!
The earth is cold above thee-long ago
They laid thee down within the silent tomb,
With breaking hearts, and smoothed the turf above
They dreamless sunnber. Glorious summertime
Was there, to blend her ringing harmonies
Or bird, and bseeze, and stream and water fall
As though seraph's wing had swept the harp
OF universal Nature, till its chords
Thrilled the soft air with thousand melodies,
A sounding anthem to the mighty One,
Whose breath had kissed Creation into life,
Unhfeded on the "dul cold ear of death"
That fairy music .rembled, and the words
OF Z" dust to dust Jared like discord strange
Along the strain of rich, wild harmony,
And told its origin was but of earth.
Long weary years have mingled with the Past
Since from they grave they slowly turned away,
As from their hearts the spirit of despair
Gushedin low, broken tones, and shuddering sought
darkened home, to dwelling more with thee
Save in the realm of Hope and Memory.
The earth is cold above thee. and to-day
The wintry storm walls though the leafess trees
And signs around thy monumental urn
Its requiem. But far within my heart
Thou hast brighter being-as thou ac0st.
Joyous and young and proudly beautiful
Remembrance cannot trace-but as thou art,
More lovely than before whitening blight
Had touched thy cheeks young bloom pale disease
Blending its fading roses-ere the weight
Of fearful suffering crushed thy tender form;
Thou art before me in the dazzling light,
Of Angel beauty, robed in l0veness-
soft star cleaning through the mist of life,
A radiant seraph by the throne of God
Home far away J!
Like dew lily leaves the gentle tones
OF olden time fail DER my sleeping spirit.
Remembrance, faithful to her guarded trust
Is bending DER me, and her pencil fair
Traces upon my heart the faded times
Of old familiar It stirs my soul
AS waving flame is shaken by the wind
AT midnight hour. hear the solemn drge
OF Ocean rolling to meet the shore,
And winds that murmur thro the whispering place
m fflv
The dim recesses of a linden grove
The streamlet wanders-and the wild BIRDS song
Sweeps by me with tone of summer hours
And now train of glorious images
Come frightening up along the shadowy past,
Blent with the music of departed years;
pilgrim train and DER a - bridge of sghs'
They pass, to bow before the ruined shrine,
And broken altar stone where burned the light
OF pleasant hopes that persisted long ago
And bring again the wreaths of faded loys
That moulder round long neglected Tyre
Enshr1ned in memory temple.
My spirit revels, and my heart forgets
In the soft maze of that bewildering dream
That it is but wanderer. Strangerssnow
Circle around that glowing hearth where once
joyous TITO gathered-stranger hand
Will train the infant buds that cluster Ger
Our vine-clad casement-they will thrill to bloom,
And birds and bees will luIl them to repose
At evenings hour with murmured melody,
But the young heart that trembed their 10y
And loved them in its purity. will be
Far, far away, and when in stranger lands
1t wanders forth. without loving eve
To light its wayward path, its dreams shall be
OF thee sweet home, as soft whisper falls
Lonely and sweet and fraught with melody,
BEST are the LoUed, for theirs is toreshado,uing
Of Paradise ,"
Heaven above!
Strong feeling with its deep resistless tide
Of wildering visions-hopes of rainbow light,
And wreaths of aspiration like a cloud
Of incense sweet eternally ascending
Floats ever up to thee. Within this world
Of all things m utable and fleeing fair,
How pants the soul to drink thatliving murmur
" Forever Faithfui'-tones that live and love,
And never change. Vain hope-and vainer trusts
Those fearful characters are stamped upon
All earthly things-and Immortality,
That amaranthnc signature of God,
Rests not, for us. aught beneath the skies.
Nothing TO us is changeless, save the faith
And hope of Heaven. mid the broken gems
And crused rose petals of departed joys
Immaculate-and amid the tainted breath
Of worldly passion, winds that sweep around it,
Laden with memories of reckless past,
Dim with the mystery of future hours,
1t rests, angel with a folded wing.
There is soft dim twilight of the heart,
And glowing memories linger far along
Its hushed horizon, with a beauty like
The clouds of evening floating as they sleep.
Mother tits then that holy thoughts of thee
And home, and Heaven where thou art reigning now,
l hear the waving of their angel wings
Across the twilight sky-and seem to list
i he cadence OF the low, sweet music tone
That persisted long ago. My heart is alone
And weary now-and oh that il should strive
Thus on weak words to pour a stream of fire,
Wingng the flames from lava veins that burst
From passions fount, when it should wait the hour,
The blessed hour when it shall find
Mother, and Home in Heaven
L'IxcoNEUE.