 | Complete Poems of Frances E. W. Harper |  |
THE DYING MOTHER
Come nearer to me, husband
Now the aching leaves my breast,
But my eyes are dim and weary,
And to-night I fain would rest.
Now the aching leaves my breast,
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And to-night I fain would rest.
Clasp me closer to your bosom
Ere I calmly sleep in death;
With your arms enfolded round me
I would yield my parting breath.
Ere I calmly sleep in death;
With your arms enfolded round me
I would yield my parting breath.
Bring me now my darling baby,
God's own precious gift of love,
Tell her she must meet her mother
In the brighter world above.
God's own precious gift of love,
Tell her she must meet her mother
In the brighter world above.
When her little feet grow stronger
To walk life's paths untrod,
That earnest, true and hopeful,
She must lay her hands on God.
To walk life's paths untrod,
That earnest, true and hopeful,
She must lay her hands on God.
Tell my other little children
They must early seek His face;
That His love is a strong tower,
And His arms a hiding place.
They must early seek His face;
That His love is a strong tower,
And His arms a hiding place.
Tell them—but my voice grows fainter—
Surely, husband, this is death—
Tell them that their dying mother
Bless'd them with her latest breath.
Surely, husband, this is death—
Tell them that their dying mother
Bless'd them with her latest breath.
| Complete Poems of Frances E. W. Harper | |