THE WIDOWS SON.

Southland Times, Volume III, Issue 247, 27 April 1866, Page 3

THE WIDOWS SON.

Within the darkened room he lay — The widow's only child — His hair was bright as glittering gold, His blue eyes soft and mild. But death lay on that fair young brow, And grasped that trembling frame : Who can describe the mother's woe, Or who allay her pain. She took his thin and wasted hand, And kissed his pale wan cheek, Brushed the damp hair from off bis brow, And tried in vain to speak. She gazed upon his dying form, With looks of anguish wild,. And then the bitter words broke forth, — Thou mast not die my child. Oh ! Thou art all I have on earth To cheer my drooping heart, — My loved, my only, first-born son, I cannot from thee part ! Mother — (the boy's blue eyes were raised With tender earnest love) — Mother, 'tis G-od's will I should die, And live with Him above. And when I lie in quiet rest Within the old churchyard, Thou mu*t not murmur for my sake, Nor think thy trial hard. But unto Him, the widow's friend, Look up with faith and fear ; The promise made shall never end, To guide protect and cheer. Elza Wiiisok. Invercargill, March 24th, 1866. _ * .