Poems by Robert Nicoll Second edition: with numerous additions, and a memoir of the author |
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THE MOTHER'S MEMORIES OF HER INFANT CHILD. |
 | Poems by Robert Nicoll |  |
THE MOTHER'S MEMORIES OF HER INFANT CHILD.
In the casket of my soul I keep
Thy form and face, my child—
Like a promise-star of love on me
Frae heaven thou lang hast smiled;
I see thy mirthfu' glance—thy hair
Spread o'er thy brow sae wan—
And thy cherry lip;—but I canna kiss
My dove—my Mary Ann!
Thy form and face, my child—
Like a promise-star of love on me
Frae heaven thou lang hast smiled;
I see thy mirthfu' glance—thy hair
Spread o'er thy brow sae wan—
And thy cherry lip;—but I canna kiss
My dove—my Mary Ann!
Like a pleasant thought within the heart,
Thou in my bosom slept;
And o'er thee dreaming there, my watch
Of gladness aft I kept!
In sunlit hours, thy artless words,
As round my knee thou ran,
Were sweet wild music to my soul—
My lovesome Mary Ann!
Thou in my bosom slept;
And o'er thee dreaming there, my watch
Of gladness aft I kept!
In sunlit hours, thy artless words,
As round my knee thou ran,
Were sweet wild music to my soul—
My lovesome Mary Ann!
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The jewel of my young life's crown—
The flower of hope wast thou;
But the gem Affection prized is lost—
The flower is withered now!
Short was thy stay in thy mother's hame,
And short thy earthly span:
But monie a heart was in love with thee,
My dearest Mary Ann!
The flower of hope wast thou;
But the gem Affection prized is lost—
The flower is withered now!
Short was thy stay in thy mother's hame,
And short thy earthly span:
But monie a heart was in love with thee,
My dearest Mary Ann!
How thou wouldst clasp thy mother's neck,
Thy mother's lips to kiss!—
To be by thee in thy love caress'd
Was a dream of heaven-like bliss;
And deeper joy than mine, my dove,
Ne'er bless'd since time began,
As I clasp'd, and kiss'd, and gazed upon
My infant Mary Ann!
Thy mother's lips to kiss!—
To be by thee in thy love caress'd
Was a dream of heaven-like bliss;
And deeper joy than mine, my dove,
Ne'er bless'd since time began,
As I clasp'd, and kiss'd, and gazed upon
My infant Mary Ann!
My life! my love! my precious babe!
How dear thou wast to me
That mother only knows whom God
Hath bless'd with sic as thee!
As the violet fades and the daisy dies
When the blast of Yule has blawn;
The cauldrife hands of Death ha'e stown
My darling Mary Ann!
How dear thou wast to me
That mother only knows whom God
Hath bless'd with sic as thee!
As the violet fades and the daisy dies
When the blast of Yule has blawn;
The cauldrife hands of Death ha'e stown
My darling Mary Ann!
| Poems by Robert Nicoll | |