 | Song in September |  |
63
THE REVIEW
One Sabbath, just as eve was come,
When musings all were sleepy-fair,
Sunshiny Wakefulness ran home
And left me dreaming in my chair.
When musings all were sleepy-fair,
Sunshiny Wakefulness ran home
And left me dreaming in my chair.
At once I searched among the flowers
Of Heaven to find my mother's face:
By beds of musk, in lilac bowers,
And near laburnums' golden grace.
Of Heaven to find my mother's face:
By beds of musk, in lilac bowers,
And near laburnums' golden grace.
I could not. Then I dreamed I woke
With trouble aching in my brain,
Till on my startled vision broke
A sight to make me young again;
With trouble aching in my brain,
Till on my startled vision broke
A sight to make me young again;
For radiant in the window-seat
My mother sat with downward look
Intently reading (how unmeet
For eyes so fair!) my latest book.
My mother sat with downward look
Intently reading (how unmeet
For eyes so fair!) my latest book.
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At last, when all the book was read,
She gave a happy little nod,
Drooped lower still her gracious head,
Kissed it, and faded back to God.
She gave a happy little nod,
Drooped lower still her gracious head,
Kissed it, and faded back to God.
| Song in September | |