Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1855-11-15
lpoetrp.
For the Green Mountain freeman.
LINES

de-th Of Mrs. POLLY sCoMSs, who died In Waldo
Q tn Of July 1855. Written By her daughter,
bennett, aud addressed to Mrs. A. r. Celiey.
The last shades Of aight were recsding.
The morning beginning to dawn,
The clouds thick and heavy were laying
Over hill and valley and lawn,
The zephyrs Of mo rning scarce stirring
The leaves, as SO gently they passed,
As if they were fearful of breaking,
Tho gloom settled DER us at last.
On bed our mothor was sitting,
How labored and painful her breath,
Her pnlse, oh, how slowly were beating,
Her face was all moisteAed with death.
She addressed her daughters beside her,
In language SO earnest, so kind,
And then she would have US remember,
A husband, she now left behind.
How certain was Death Of his victim,
Disease had accomplished the work,
But mother was waiting to meet him,
To bid all farewell upon eartn.
Her work on the earth it was finished,
Her treasure secured on high,
To her last request we had listened,
And then she was waiting tn die.
A seat at the right Of her Father,
Was waiting for her she believed,
She wished to depart and possess it
From sickness and pain to se freed
Then how soon from earth she departed,
How quickly the conflict was pnst,
How soon we were left broken-heafted,
When over Deaths river she passed.
Oh, sister, shall we ever forget,
While season remains on her throne,
The blessings with which we were favored,
While mother was with us at home
When sickness and trouble came Ger US,
How troubled and anxious was she,
She scarcely was kaown to be weary.
While an aid to us she could be.
To whom shall we now go for counsel
Who shall that instruction impart--
Where look for mothers Affection
Where hnd that kind loving heart!
Oh, sister, now am SO lonely,
So down in spirit, so sad,
There is nought on earth thai can cheer me,
That can make this weary heart glad.
look on the last and remember,
The time when our father we lost y
When mother was left lone vii dow.
To earn food and raiment for US.
How willingly then did she labor,
To shield US from hunger and harm,
When was child of six summers,
And you was babe in her arms.
Twas then Gods blessing attended
Our mother, like worthless Of old,
Though we on her'labor depended,
We never went hungry or cold.
And still for US, with care and content,
She labored necessarily on,
Until we could, by increase Of strength,
Well depend on efforts our own.
Nor were her blessings then restricted
To her own friends and family
The suffering stranger often shared,
Her friendly aid, her sympathy.
Say, sister, dost thou not remember
How often and cheerful she went
To aid the sick and suffering,
Like as waiting angels are sent
The needy in her sympathy shared,
And when she had aught to impart,
1t delighted her heart to make glad
The children of sorrow and want.
Oh, sister, how much desired
That mother might stand by my bed,
When twas mine to cross over Jordan
To go through the valley Of death.
But never again will that mother
Bend o,er the couch Of the dying:
Her daughters must look unto cthers
To dispell this sadness Of mind.
To wipe OF those tears from our faces,
To comfort, to cheer, to console,
Must be hand that is Almighty,
That can heal, bind up, and make whole.
Oh, let US 60 quickly unto Him,
Bow low at His feet, and begin
To plead the atonement Of Jesus,
And beg to be saved from all sin.
That we may be fully prepared
To meet that dear mother on high,
Where sickness no more shall destroy us,
Where none are permitted to die