I can close my eyes for an instant
And draw a scene to my mind,
That seems like a photo-engraving,
As true, as complete, as defined.
Time's flight has not dim'd or shaded
One outline the scenes gave then,
Though the years that have intervened,
Are nearly two score and ten.
There's a central, attractive figure,
With heart unselfish and warm,
That always appears in the picture—
'Tis my mother's benignant form.
I can see her in all the beauty
And glow of a mother's pride,
As she patiently watched and labored
For her children at her side.
How sweet to my soul is the power
To so clearly these scenes portray;
I pray that to life's latest hour
This bliss be not taken away.
ALONE.
"And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a help meet for him."—Gen. 2, 18.
Alone! God saw His creature man,
Deprived of great felicity,
And changed the order of His plan
That earth in harmony might be
With all the products of the spheres,
Which move in such perfect accord,
That through aeons of passing years
They but proclaim a perfect Lord.
The earth was fair and fresh and young,
The stars hung in a cloudless sky,
Sweet perfumes on the air were flung
From every breeze went laughing by;
The brook and bird in wanton glee,
Attuned their notes in such refrain
That earth was full of minstrelsy,
And heaven re-echoed it again.