Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1871-03-16
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From Godoy's Lady's Book.
TO NY MOTHER.
BY L'EcLARIE.

Dear mother, am thinking as the twilight
gathers gray,
OF friends who knew and petted mo in child
hoods happy day,
Of pleasures dead and buried, Of sunny hopes
that smiled
Beyond the bright horizon when was but a
The great book of the by-gono lies open in my
hand;
And, as turn it's pages, I seem again to stand
Beside you, darling mother, scarcely higher than
your knee,
Looking at your busy fingers making something
nice for me.
can see my little brother, too, the one that's
gone before,
With all his pretty playthings at your feet upon
the floor
How he tossed them all behind him, when he
tired Of his play,
And crowed for you to take him in his pretty,
baby way;
Then you put aside your sewing, rocked your
little one to rest,
While kissed his chubby fingers as they lay
upon your breast
Many years beneath the violets his sunny head
has lain
can never kiss his darling, little, dimpled hand
Beside my older brother, who had been the first
They aid your precious "Tommv" gently,
tenderly, and low.
Remember, too, the letter saying grandmamma
had died
And father read it to you, sitting on the steps,
and cried
She had left a little daughter eight years old,
the letter said
And they wanted you to have her. now thai
6randmamma was dead.
She came--you called her Betty" as you kissed
her childish brow,
And told nc | must love her as an older sister
now
When We grew and played together through
Some hours bright and golden, some embalm"
in precious tears.
All toso vision, Of my childhood, how thsr
crowi about Inc now,
Az memory hand is sweeping back the shad ""
IRON my brow
love to think upon them, love the dream
Ii lit they cast
Al,u tuo silent cham es of tie unforgottc
past.
ca tell YOU, mother all the burniY
Thoughts that CoMc
Aud III. M heart, when thinking of M child
hoods happy home.
The friends that nov ale scattered, who il
youth were gathered there,
One by ono they glide before me, like sweo.
spirits in the air;
They come around me lovingly and bear my
spirit back,
So gently and 70 tonderly, along the olden track:
They carry me, dear mother, to the old house or
the hill,
With its quaint, old-fsshioned parlor-how well
love it still
SEQ again in memory the bright and hapr
tbrOng
Around tho old piano, j lining in the oyonjv
song.
There Mary" sang the sweetest, and woke io
deepest thrill
Of all the youthful voices that loated DER tho
hill.
Poor MARY" how we loved her, with her bright
and laughing ways
Her spirit steals upon me now. eight Of other
days"
But trouble came upon her from the day she
was bride,
Though she never, never murmured of hci
silent grief she died.
And he who won her from us sleeps in dealt:
beside her now
Spring flowers bright are blossoming above his
icy brow.
Two little orphan children, playing round ths
Recall their mothers childhood from the happy
DAYS of yore.
My fathers younger brother, scarcely older than
the rest,
Is welded to the playmate that always loved
the bost
"Betty" married and is widowed, she is childlsss
and alone
Her path was strewn with roses that are faded
now and gone.
All! life is full of changes, full Of partings and
of tears,
While time is slowly filling up the graves Of
early years
Our happy band is broken, we are scattered far
and wide
For time has borne us onward with its ever
rushing tide.
l, too, have wandered, mother, from the place
loved go well.
To wear another name, and in anothers home to
dwell.
1 know he loves me dearly, and my heart is full
of joy
When gaze upon my husband and my laughing
baby boy.
Life's sweetest draught I've tasted when the
cup was running DER,
But ofton wish, dear mother, could be child
once more.