Of cares, which tear the bosom that they soil;

Oh! if there be in retrospection’s chain

One link that knits us with young dreams again—

One thought so sweet we scarcely dare to muse

On all the hoarded raptures it reviews;

Which seems each instant, in its backward range,

The heart to soften, and its ties to change,

And every spring untouched for years to move,

It is—the memory of a mother’s love!"

We see, therefore, that there are painful, as well as pleasant, memories of home. When the absent disobedient child remembers how he abused the privileges of the parental home, and brought the gray hairs of his parents down with sorrow to the grave, and turned that household into a desolation; when