Sitting here in the twilight gray,
On this my anniversary day,
Let me review the past;—and see
What these years have done for me.
Forty-one years! why it seems but a day
Since I knelt at my mother’s knee, to pray;
While her voice was ascending in accents mild,
Invoking heaven’s blessings upon her child.
That mother was early called away;
Yet I feel she is near me day by day;