[My mother's memory, in] The Boston book Being specimens of metropolitan literature, occasional and periodical |
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 | [My mother's memory, in] The Boston book |  |
39
MY MOTHER'S MEMORY.
Oft from the azure depths, at twilight's verge,Pure fleecy clouds, as fairy lands, emerge—
And round their dewy forms the sunbeams pour
Effulgent floods, as waves upon the shore;
They rise all radiant o'er the airy isle,
Till all, in one bright flush of glory, smile.
Thus, from the spirit's deep, blest visions rise—
And, like the visitants of peaceful skies,
Kindle sublimely, as Attention's eye
Intently beams upon their majesty.
Such are the fertile thoughts, which wake and spring
Beneath the nurture of Devotion's wing—
And such the holy throng, which gather where
The soul dissolves, and whelms itself in prayer;
And these attend, with ministry divine,
When man pours forth his love at nature's shrine.
And such, my Mother! is the thought of thee—
A thought of joy, yet full of mystery.
If, from the precincts of their sainted home,
The ascended ones are suffered e'er to roam,
Then art thou round me;—winged with mother's love,
Thy spirit leaves its blissful rest above,
In the still watchings of a seraph's care,
To guard thy son, and gently guide him there!
Happy the thought that thou art ever nigh,
The guardian angel of my destiny!
| [My mother's memory, in] The Boston book | |