MY MOTHER.
How well I do remember The look she gave to me, When for this foreign hind I hied, My home that was to be. It seemed as if my heart would break, Though my grief I fain would hide. But I'm not ashamed to own it now, I was my mother's pride. The last embrace, we parted. How reluctantly I went, As she prayed the great Protector, And her blessings with me sent. • And my soul with anguish rending, As I tore myself away, While her ardent looks"betokened The words she failed to say. Now far across the ocean, How I think of the little band, That used to prattle round her knee, As she talked of some foreign laud. But never in those moments, Bid I think of the days to come, When for ever I should leave her On a distant shore to roam. And as my longing gaze is fixed On a southern sky so clear, With rapture still my soul doth dwell On a mother's memory dear. F. B. Westport, Feb. 21.
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Westport Times, Volume V, Issue 780, 23 February 1871, Page 2
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178MY MOTHER. Westport Times, Volume V, Issue 780, 23 February 1871, Page 2
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