Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Droop not the stately forest trees,
When autumn leaves fall thick and sere?
Nought list they in the whispering breeze
The promise of a bright new-year.

Close not the waters with sullen moan
O'er the lost seaman's sinking head?
Nought reck they how the trumpet-tone
Shall bid the sea give up her dead.

And what if Nature's face be glad,
If summer tints be fresh and gay,
May not our riven hearts be sad,
When those we love have passed away?

When standing on the grassy sod,
That hides the dear and lifeless clay,
Albeit faith points up to God,
Sounds it not bitter, “gone for aye?”

Dear mother, more than mother thou,
When orphaned of a mother's love,
Thou taught'st my trembling knees to bow,
My infant lips in prayer to move.

Thou bad'st me in the Church's Creed
All high and heavenly lore to learn,
By gentle word, by loving deed,
Thou bad'st me Jesu's love to earn.

And sure, a more than mother's love
Shone in thy mild and saintlike brow,
What words as thine had power to move,
What guide so true, so dear as thou?

Ah me, how ill have I repaid
That love which cannot be exprest!
Thou in the silent tomb art laid;—
What can we do?—thou art at rest.

Dear mother, we will pray for thee,
Will pray as only love knows how;
May endless rest thy portion be,
Perpetual light around thee glow!

And in that last, that awful hour,
When the trump sounds, the graves are riven,
Thy children then, so Christ give power,
Shall bless thee in the face of heaven.

They shall rise up, and call thee blest,
And Mary's Son that seal shall own;
The Child who lay on Mary's breast,
Will bless thee from His royal throne.