The Mother's Heart

The Mother's Heart

The spring of feeling gushes there,

In mystic light from virtue's rays,

Is like the pure undying air

That o'er the fact of nature plays;

No selfish view, or sordid tie,

Around the MOTHER'S heart will cling,

Nor in the hidden bed will lie

A sealed or sensual thing.

It is a pure, unquenched flame,

A fountain of perpetual flow;

Though withered it will bloom again,

With constant and undying glow;

In spite of every withering storm,

The feelings of that faithful breast

Will guard the lone and trembling form,

The friendless and oppressed.

A MOTHER'S heart will still remain

And every pang on earth endure;

Cast her affection in the flame,

And it will pass unchanged and pure.

As gentle as the voice of spring,

It bears not passion's deadly weight;

But to the heart of youth will cling,

Till all is desolate.

R.Barker

1:13, p. 4

1837.04.01

From the Mother's Magazine