Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1874-03-25
The Home Circle.
For the Waterman.
now MOTHER rOuNp TIE pOYs.


ny SARAH MCLEAN.
With laughter careless and merry and free
With hair by the fresh wind blown,
They went hunting over the eastern hills,
Martin and Luther and John.
ny her door, 10 the sun, my mother stood,
TIL their forms were lost In the distant wood,
Their echoing laugh had died.
Then away to her daily task she turned.
But her thoughts with them had lowni
And bright In her homllest tasks she wrought
Martin and Luther and John.
Three beautiful castles she built that day
For three lords, worthy and fair
Their foundations were laid In godly hope,
Their beams were stfaigbtened BY prayer.
Through the sky, unnoted three dark clouds saiisd-
The prophets Of coming rain ..,
BY our cottage door sang three fatefel birds
The prophets Of coming pain.
That night, when the sun down the sky red rolled,
When the days work all was done
And the evening meal was set for the hoys--
Martin and Luther and John
Then again In the door my mother stooa
With anxious eyes looking out,
And listening with hushed breath lest Sic nlss
The sound Of Well-known shout.
Ba. deeper and darker the shadows grew
The night came on, and the rain
With low, dull sound Of pain.
The wind came up from behind the hills,
Crying In dcaolate strain,
As though II were striving 10 ffee IT, soul
From the power Of some guilty stain
As though II were striving in vain to toll
OF the young life strong and free,
Lured out by its sunny, sparkling laugh,
To the great arms Of the sea
As though It were striving In vain to tell
OF the young life strong and free.
Tossed by It's dreadful and merciless power
On the dark waves Of the sea
or the passionate prayer, the outstretchcd arms,
The uplifted faces white
OF the whispered Mother % the arms enlockcd,
The shrieking storm and the night
And now in heart-brokcn, helpless sohs
At the thought Of It's wild carOuse
II walled and sorrowed and moaned and cried,
Round the whiting mothers house.
And with words bravely spoken she turned away.
Bat o. with face Of dread
" They have tarried hence because Of the storm,
They will come tomorrow" she said.
In shimmerng sunlight the morning dawned,
The wind and the rain were gone
But they came not dowb from the eastern hills
Martin and Luther and John.
And the Spring into fruitful Summer grew,
With It's days, alas too lungi
When the air, made faint by sweet, heartless flowers
Was heavy with heartess song.
And Summer changed into Autumn ripe,
And the crimson leaves grew brown,
But they came not down from the eastern hills
Martin, nor Luther, nor John.
Oh, my mothers hair had grown strangely white,
And her face wRs mute with despair;
And she knelt with me by the bed, at night
But lifted no voice In prayer.
TIL, troubled DER much In my childish soul
My arms round her neck threw
" Mother, don't you love God any more ~ cried,
%, pray as you used to do"
Goa's message came home to the broken heart
op'ning Ia channels again,
Relief came o'er the set white face,
And the tears poured down like rain
While heard her repeat IN broken sobs
The words Of that snless One,
Who tho tossed In deep waves Of anguish yet cried
THY will, not mine, be done"
Peace folded her close In its arms that night,
And she dreamed as she lay asleep
Lo, the sun was coming up In the sky
With beauty flushed and deep
And with voices joyful aud strong and free,
With garments that brightly shone,
They came DER the glorided eastern hills
Martin and Luther and John.
Ay, fairly indeed in the east, at noon,
Rose the stately sailing sun,
But my mothers hands lay still on her breast,
The work OF the day was done.
M. Hoiyoks Sem, jan, 1874.