The cypress may mourn with her evergreen tears,
And, like the blue hyacinth, change not with years;
Yea, flowers of feeling may blossom above,
To yield earth the fragrance of goodness and love;
So one heart is left me—she breathes in my ear,
"I'm living to bless thee; for this are we here."
And when this sweet pledge to my lone heart was given,
Earth held but this joy, or this happiness heaven!
Here the rock and the sea and the tall waving pine
Enchant deep the senses,—subduing, sublime;
Yet stronger than these is the spell that hath power
To sweep o'er the heartstrings in memory's hour.
Of the past 'tis the talisman, when we three met,
When the star of our friendship arose not to set;
And pure as its rising, and bright as the star,
Be its course through our heavens, whether near or afar.
Lynn, Mass., August 24, 1865.
A VERSE
Mother's New Year Gift to the Little Children
