I see him now,
A half-veiled look of heaven upon his face,
That heavenlier seemed baptized in recent tears;
And that peculiar shadow, brightness traced
Alone where sorrows come with childhood's years
Was on his brow.
The sunlight shone
Down with a loving kiss upon the hair--
That fell in gold-waves round the half-bent head,
As if it would replace a mother's care,
That mother lain yestreen among the dead,
To sleep alone.
And low I bent
To kiss the upturned brow so pure and white,
And called his name; but still the drooping lid
Shut close within the soul its wonted light,
While on the silken lash a tear unshed
The trembling tone
Was like a bird wail, O, so sadly sweet;
In five short words the simple tale he told;
Told why his rosy cheeks with tears were wet,
And why like dew upon his locks of gold
They brightly shone.
And this the tale:
"I have no mother now;" he said no more,
But I looked down upon the shadowed brow,
And then away into the years before,
When he must weep e'en bitterer tears than now,
And sadder feel.
Through all the years
I thought how he must live and never know
The warm caress a mother's hand can give,
And miss her blessing amid weal or woe,
And missing these, still onward toil and live,
Without her prayers.
I see him yet,
And hear the murmur of those music tones,
"I have no mother now." May those sweet eyes
Keep still that upward look toward thy home,
And their appealing blue lead to the skies,
Thy wandering steps.