 | Coffin's Poems with Ajax' Ordeals |  |
28
Motherly Emotions.
A mother
came passing by my door,
Her son was near by my side;
“Howdy mama” was her son's adore,
“Howdy my son” she replied.
Her son was near by my side;
“Howdy mama” was her son's adore,
“Howdy my son” she replied.
And as I gazed upon that mother,
The tears rushed to my eyes;
My heart's affections began to swell,
My mind went to paradise.
The tears rushed to my eyes;
My heart's affections began to swell,
My mind went to paradise.
While there it found that one model,
Who, sixteen long years ago,
By the blessed Saviour's command,
Left all earth's sorrows below.
Who, sixteen long years ago,
By the blessed Saviour's command,
Left all earth's sorrows below.
“What word is sweeter than mother,
What place is dearer than home?”
These words are our associates
Wherever in life we roam.
What place is dearer than home?”
These words are our associates
Wherever in life we roam.
Napoleon was a worldly man,
Yet one great thing he uttered,
When from conscience clear he said,
“What France most needs is mothers.”
Yet one great thing he uttered,
When from conscience clear he said,
“What France most needs is mothers.”
29
Home, that sanctuary of love,
That stamps impressions for life,
Who's the heart of affection there?
It is the mother, the wife.
That stamps impressions for life,
Who's the heart of affection there?
It is the mother, the wife.
A mother's love! oh, no one knows
How much of life's feelings lies,
In those sweet words, the fears, the hopes,
And daily strengthening ties.
How much of life's feelings lies,
In those sweet words, the fears, the hopes,
And daily strengthening ties.
It wakes ere yet the infant dreams
It's earliest vital breath;
And fails but when the mother's heart
Chills in the grasp of death.
It's earliest vital breath;
And fails but when the mother's heart
Chills in the grasp of death.
Who knows the worth of mother?
Not those who see her daily;
But those who watch that vacant chair
Whose days are dark and dreary.
Not those who see her daily;
But those who watch that vacant chair
Whose days are dark and dreary.
But when I am tossed and driven,
And feel like I'm all alone;
I think of mother and that city,
Which long since she's made her home.
And feel like I'm all alone;
I think of mother and that city,
Which long since she's made her home.
Mother, while playing at thy knees,
Within my youthful heart;
There dwelt no secret consciousness,
That thou would e'er depart.
Within my youthful heart;
There dwelt no secret consciousness,
That thou would e'er depart.
30
Since thou hast gone I now have learned
To bow my stubborn will,
The power that calms the raging sea
My rebel heart has stilled.
To bow my stubborn will,
The power that calms the raging sea
My rebel heart has stilled.
So I can look with fearless eyes
On all these earthly fates,
But how coulds't thou afford to die
And leave me desolate?
On all these earthly fates,
But how coulds't thou afford to die
And leave me desolate?
I should not weep for thee, dear one,
While with the saints thou art,
But how can I in coldness check
The burning tears that start?
While with the saints thou art,
But how can I in coldness check
The burning tears that start?
My thoughts to thee must ever turn
As in my infant days,
While in my heart thine image shall
Lead me through life's rough ways.
As in my infant days,
While in my heart thine image shall
Lead me through life's rough ways.
Rest, dearest one, may angel host
Their vigils o'er thee keep,
How can I breath thy saintly name
And yet forbear to weep?
Their vigils o'er thee keep,
How can I breath thy saintly name
And yet forbear to weep?
I stand heartbroken on dull earth
And gaze on the vacant skies,
Mother I cannot see thy face,
Dost thou hear thy son's cry?
And gaze on the vacant skies,
Mother I cannot see thy face,
Dost thou hear thy son's cry?
31
If in God's likeness I may awake
And shine in pure image by thee,
I'll be satisfied when I can break
The fetters of flesh and be free.
And shine in pure image by thee,
I'll be satisfied when I can break
The fetters of flesh and be free.
| Coffin's Poems with Ajax' Ordeals | |