[This time last year, mother, thou wast with me—]
This time last year, mother, thou wast with me—
The flowers still bloomed, the world was full of light:
The sun still flamed at morn, o'er land and sea;
The stars still ruled the empire of the night.
To-day thou art gone, and all is changed indeed!
For me the whole dim world in shadow lies.
Not from the sun, the stars, doth light proceed,
But from the love that fills a mother's eyes.
Yet, though the light die out on hill and plain,
Though darkness spread its veil across the deep,
Though I shall never meet on earth again
Thine eyes, closed in their everlasting sleep,—
Though thou art gone from thine accustomed place,
Though sorrow do its deadly best to kill,
God, who divides, can bring us face to face,
The Power that wrought our love is with us still.
September, 1892.
