To My Mother Poem by Mary Weston Fordham

To My Mother



I took up the burden of life anew
When she, the pure-hearted, died;
When the golden cord was rent in twain,
And she faded from my side.
When the eyes grew dim that were wont to glow
With the holy light of love,
And the spirit, freed from earthly care,
Sped to its rest above.

Oh, the dreary days! Oh, the weary nights!
Oh, the anguish, who can tell?
When the light of my life went swiftly out,
And the shadow athwart me fell.
For the wound was deep, and the woe was great,
And its poignancy will blight
All the onward course of my future years,
Till my faith be turned to sight.

I muse me now of the beautiful days,
The halcyon days of yore;
And wonder if e'er on life's stormy sea
Such days I shall ever see more.
The sky is as blue-tinted now as then,
And the sunlight just as bright;
But they gladden me not as in other days
Ere she faded from my sight.

The clouds with their purple and amber hues-
Their gossamer robes of snow-
And the stars at the quiet twilight hour
In calm, clear beauty glow.
And music sweet as Æolian harp
Is echoing far and wide-
But, sure, naught gladdens my heart as before
She faded away from my side.

O, Mother! in anguish I peer through the mists
Of a future, so dark without thee;
The desert of life hath truly been blessed
With an oasis sacred to thee.
And oft to this green spot of beauty I turn,
My shrine of affection, my pride;
For, surely, naught gladdens my heart as before
Thou fadedst away from my side.

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