Classic Poem

XI.

And she had lived in cities wide,
Had sailed across the fearful ocean,
Could tell of wealth, and camps, and pride,
And peopled earth's commotion.

XII.

And books had she a precious store,
With words whose light was never dim;
Five crowded shelves, like mines of ore,
Like undiscovered realms for him.

XIII.

Pure-souled and thoughtful he had been
Who left this young and widowed bride;
He left her while her leaves were green,
But ah! they withered when he died.

XIV.

So here she lived unmarked, alone,
Through quiet years remote from blame,
With little that she called her own
But him who bore his father's name.

XV.

Two hearts had she, the one so sad
It often ached within her breast;
But in her boy a heart she had
Now thrilled with hope, now lulled to rest.

XVI.

And tall he grew, though never strong,
And beautiful at least to her;
A soul he seemed attuned to song,
With thoughts of endless inward stir.

XVII.

By love she taught him best to love,
She gave him hope by trust in God;
When pained below he looked above,
Yet scorned no flower of nature's sod.

XVIII.

And when to fill the ripening man
In deeper flow Reflection came,
When Dread and Wish their strife began,
Awe, Passion, Doubt no longer tame;

XIX.

Though small the help 'twas hers to give,—
For deep not wide her best of lore,—
“Still, still,” she said, “by Conscience live,
And Peace and Truth from Heaven implore.

XX.

“My son, for these to toil is good,
For these to none who seek denied;
Alone thy soul must seek its food,
No teacher at thy side.”