My Mother.

It is my mother with her raven hair.1
Her thoughts are with the dead,2
Are with the lately dead !3
Gentle ever ;- sitting weeps she there,4
Weeping, weeping ;— silently ever.5
There is a band of children romping mad :6
Amide their gambols wild7
She marks her only child ;8
Kindly ever ;— watching, smiles, tho’ sad,9
Smiling, smiling,—mournfully ever.10
Hark to the jocund bells’ triumphant sweep !11
She greets the bride in white,12
Foretells a future bright ;13
Cheerful ever ;— kneeling, prays she deep,14
Praying, praying,—hopefully ever.15
What horrid grief was that I had to show ?16
A tale too often told !17
My mother, though so old,18
Truest ever ;— clinging, soothes my woe,19
Soothing, soothing,—tenderly ever.20
It is my mother with her silvern hair.21
She was my All on earth ;22
I never knew her worth !23
Loving ever ;— waiting, rests she there,24
Resting, resting,—peacefully ever.25