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“The heart that we have lain near before our birth is the only one that cannot forget that it hath loved us."
My birthday !—Oh beloved mother!
Before I wept upon thy knees-
My own I do not care to check.
I weep-albeit here alone
As if I hung upon thy neck,
As if thy lips were on my own, As if this full, sad heart of mine, Were beating closely upon thine.
Four weary years! How looks she now?
What light is in those tender eyes ?
Whose look is borrow'd of the skies
Whose name upon her lips is worn-
For whom she wakes to pray at mornWhose sight is dim, whose heart-strings stir, Who weeps these tears—to think of her!
I know not if my mother's eyes
Would find me chang’d in slighter things ; I've wandered beneath many skies,
And tasted of some bitter springs ; And many leaves, once fair and gay,
From youth's full flower have dropp'd away,
The lessen'd flower gets near the core,
Takes closer what was dear of yore
And yearns to those who lov'd it firstThe sunshine and the dew by which its bud was nurst.
Dear mother! dost thou love me yet?
Am I remember'd in my home ?
Does some one wish that I would come ?
But, as the schoolboy numbers o'er
And finds the stars he found before,
As counts the miser aye his gold-
Would I of thy fond love be told.
My heart is full, mine eyes are wetDear mother! dost thou love thy long-lost wanderer
Oh! when the hour to meet again
Creeps on, and, speeding o'er the sea, My heart takes up its lengthen’d chain,
And, link by link, draws nearer theeWhen land is hailed, and, from the shore,
Comes off the blessed breath of home,
The old familiar paths are past,
I gaze upon thy face at last,
Oh! if my heart break not with joy,
And I shall grow once more a boy : And, mother !—'twill be like a dream
That we were parted thus for years— And once that we have dried our tears,
How will the days seem long and brightTo meet thee always with the morn,
And hear thy blessing every night