Classic Poem

ON THE FIRST LEAF OF MY COMMON-PLACE BOOK .

BY JAMES B. MARSHALL .

Here, Mary, may'st thou read my thoughts
 When I am far away from thee,
Gather'd like autumn-leaves, that fall
 Upon a waveless sea.

Here may'st thou trace the sunny dream
 That brightened o'er my boyhood's brow,—
Here may'st thou learn whence that dark shade
 Which made me pensive now.

Here may'st thou see the smile of love,
 When rapture woke beneath thy smile;
Here may'st thou mark the blanched cheek—
 Oh! thou wast sad the while.

No ripples o'er the silver lake
 Of hope or sable memory,
But glass with magic skill thy form,—
 My heart is all in thee.

Thou art a mother in my grief,
 A sister in my hours of sadness,
Thou art my child to wean me from
 My sorrow with thy gladness.

Thy smile to me is what the sun's
 Gay radiance to the flowers may be;
Giving them life and health and strength—
 Thou art that sun to me.

Then when thou look'st within this book,
 On every page thou 'It find how dear
Thou art to me—my every thought
 For thee is treasured here.