 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
MY MOTHER.
'T was in the autumn's dreary close,
A long, long time ago:
The berries of the brier-rose
Hung bright above the snow,
And night had spread a shadow wild
About the earth and sky,
When, calling me her orphan child,
She said that she must die.
A long, long time ago:
The berries of the brier-rose
Hung bright above the snow,
252
About the earth and sky,
When, calling me her orphan child,
She said that she must die.
She rests within the quiet tomb,
The narrow and the chill—
The window of our cabin home
Looks out upon the hill.
Oh, when the world seems wild and wide,
And friends to love me few,
I think of how she lived and died,
And gather strength anew.
The narrow and the chill—
The window of our cabin home
Looks out upon the hill.
Oh, when the world seems wild and wide,
And friends to love me few,
I think of how she lived and died,
And gather strength anew.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |