Page:Poems Curwen.djvu/191

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to my mother.
183

On such a day as this whole families meet,
And the old folk look on with gladdened eye,
Pleased with the music of the pattering feet,
Which doth recall their children's infancy.

But there is no such music for your ears,
Your children's children are to you unknown;
Your children's faces, like the vanished years,
Only a memory as you sit alone:

For one by one they drifted from your side,
And now by circumstances, or by fate,
Ye twain are left alone at eventide,
Two loving hearts, both sad and desolate.

O, that my children might have known you here!
Have felt the tenderness of your embrace;
God knows, I have shed many a bitter tear
Because you have not seen one little face.

O, to have seen them nestling to your breast!
O, to have seen them clinging to your knee!
Had you but kissed them then they had been blest,
But there's been no such joy for them, or me.

O mother mine! thou hast been sorely tried—
Borne many a cross, and many a sad reverse
Since thou didst stand an earnest blushing bride,
To pledge thyself "for better or for worse."

Thy faithful love has been my father's stay
Through the vicissitudes of a long life;
Thy feet have never faltered on the way,
However rough: Brave mother! noble wife!