Poems (Hornblower)/The Mother's Prayer
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THE MOTHER'S PRAYER.
The mother's face! it is pale with, care,
Though lighted with smiles, such as mothers wear;
Though sickly the hue which is on the brow,
The eye beams with love and with joy below.
There 's a hope and a trust in that mother's heart,
She does not dream of the horn- to part.
Though lighted with smiles, such as mothers wear;
Though sickly the hue which is on the brow,
The eye beams with love and with joy below.
There 's a hope and a trust in that mother's heart,
She does not dream of the horn- to part.
And now she has bended her knee to pray,
While sickness is wasting her life away;
Her hands are folded in fervent love.
Her spirit's desire is borne above;
Oh! not for herself those pleadings deep—
For the health of her child in his rosy sleep.
While sickness is wasting her life away;
Her hands are folded in fervent love.
Her spirit's desire is borne above;
Oh! not for herself those pleadings deep—
For the health of her child in his rosy sleep.
For him with the light and sunny face,
Which daily ripens in bloom and grace:
Oh! her dreams are all of his future years,
She fancies his griefs with a mother's fears;
And yet at his smile sweet visions play,
To chase all those sadder thoughts away.
Which daily ripens in bloom and grace:
Oh! her dreams are all of his future years,
She fancies his griefs with a mother's fears;
And yet at his smile sweet visions play,
To chase all those sadder thoughts away.
She prays that a father's love will shrine
His opening youth with a trust divine;
That the world, in its varied forms of ill,
May never his guileless bosom fill;
But, all unsullied, the heavenly flame
May return to Him from whom it came.
His opening youth with a trust divine;
That the world, in its varied forms of ill,
May never his guileless bosom fill;
But, all unsullied, the heavenly flame
May return to Him from whom it came.
Oh! more and more earnest that mother's prayer,
As her sighs are breathed on the midnight air;
Her own sad fate she has all forgot,
The unkindness that wounds her daily lot,
The neglect that leaves her to weep unknown,
Oh! her heart is full of her child alone.
As her sighs are breathed on the midnight air;
Her own sad fate she has all forgot,
The unkindness that wounds her daily lot,
The neglect that leaves her to weep unknown,
Oh! her heart is full of her child alone.
And the prayer is heard—it is traced above,
In the glowing light of a mother's love;
A few short days—she must fade and die,
And the baby will heed not her farewell sigh;
But when she is laid in her youthful grave,
That prayer will have power to soothe and save.
In the glowing light of a mother's love;
A few short days—she must fade and die,
And the baby will heed not her farewell sigh;
But when she is laid in her youthful grave,
That prayer will have power to soothe and save.
O human love! what a load it would be,
Fearful and sad, to cherish thee,
In a world where all things lovely fly
The delighted gaze of the dreamer's eye,
But for the hope that cannot fade,
For the clear bright faith that knows no shade.
Fearful and sad, to cherish thee,
In a world where all things lovely fly
The delighted gaze of the dreamer's eye,
But for the hope that cannot fade,
For the clear bright faith that knows no shade.
There is a land where the smile is true,
Where the cheek is ever a healthy hue,
Where the heart for unkindness weeps no more,
And the thousand fears of earth are o'er;
And in that land, Oh! is it not sweet
To think, that the mother and child will meet?
Where the cheek is ever a healthy hue,
Where the heart for unkindness weeps no more,
And the thousand fears of earth are o'er;
And in that land, Oh! is it not sweet
To think, that the mother and child will meet?