The Poetical Works of Jonathan E. Hoag/To Our Dear Mama

by Jonathan E. Hoag

To Our Dear Mama

Dear mama, you didn't tell us
  That you felt you were to die;
Didn't come to kiss your babies;
  And we didn't then know why.

When we saw you in the morning,
  We believed you fast asleep;
Yet we felt so strange a stillness
  That it almost made us weep.

There papa sat close beside you;
  And we heard his moaning cry;
And the house seemed very quiet;
  And we didn't then know why.

There so many stood about you;
  And we saw them turn and cry.
All at once a man was praying;
  And we didn't then know why.

Now in summertime with papa
  We plant pretty little flowers,
That mama once loved so dearly,
  Wet with early morning showers.

Oft in stilly night we're dreaming
  Of our dear mama at rest,
Down beneath the fragrant cedars,
  Where the singing birds still nest!

1922