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Show MOTHER'S ABSENCE. The clouds are grey, the air is still: The river no more turns the mill; The barren hills and naked fields, No more their grateful perfume yields. The winter time is coming on, The pleasant autumn dajs have gone. The flowers aic dead, the ttcesare bare, All nature stands In mute despair. My happy home that's alwajs blight, Today doth wear a duller light; And why it ks 1 cannot say, Unless because dear mothers away And as I sit and muse alone, 1 think of her the absent one; Of mother who Is far away, And Oh, it makes me sad tcday. Ah, jes, that's wh) I'm lonely now, I Hecause the hand that smoothed my brow, Has gone to rase another's pain; Hut soon she will return again. Return and wipe my tearful eve, Repress my weary heartfelt sigh; And with a mother's gentle love, Make home as bright as heaven above And tho' the Mowers do not grow, Tho dear old home will brightly glow, For It will have regained Its queen, All else will be a passing dream. Hut ah! methlnks I sometimes here, A strange voice whlsDerlng In my car; This one sad lesson you must learn, That mother wont always return. Some day she'll walk that well trod track, From which there Is no coming back; All that's then left or her will be, Her loving name her memory Unllll that day, I shall not miss, Her guiding had, her gentle kiss; Her fond caress, and hopeful smile, Which alwajs did my fears beguile. Then let mo scatter t'ay by day, Sweet llowers on her declining way; For wrapped In all Its sullen gloom, The parting hour comes all too soon. Yet when It comes I'll pray to meet, My darling mother, true and swcot; That I In heaven her love might share, For 'twill be heaven if she Is there. Sauau K. MlTTON. |
