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//^ 
 
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 frintd for pmii mt 
 
 MY MOTHER. 
 
 * 
 
 BY "ALBYN." 
 
 HALIFAX, N. S. 
 
 PRINTED BY JAMES BOWES & SONS, 
 
 1868. 
 
 CAN 
 
 PR 
 
Viff:'.:rJ::,.J''^-' 1.-. 
 
 ■m 
 
 IlitU)au$ic (CnlliHK Slibrari) 
 
 . ^; 
 
 JOHN JAMES STEWART 
 COLLECTION 
 
 F, 
 
 
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 1 
 
 Wi' 
 
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 ;uy 
 
Iprintfd for |)riuatf \m. 
 
 MY MOTHER. 
 
 3i|n TdUmorlum. 
 
 BY "ALBYN."p<i.,,^a 
 
 1 1 f 
 
 HALIFAX, N. S. 
 
 PRINTED BY JAMFS BOWES & SONS, 
 
 1868. 
 
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 . ( »■ 
 
 46i% V*"*^ ^"^ * ^^ 
 
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MY MOTIIKIi. 
 
 \ 
 
 "A foolish man dtupiseUi his nioiher." 
 
 SoL(>.\U»N. 
 
 Mv MotluM- : O my Mother, how 1 h)ii;^r. 
 
 To l)i(l thy vii'tuos live in .simple sou;^ ; 
 
 How soolliinir to my spirit would it be. 
 
 To strew witli Howers the turf that lies on thee — 
 
 Seal with love's si;xnet what unhidden tears, 
 
 Have left unblottod in a len^'th of vears, 
 
 Iletrieve thy ineni'ry from oblivion's jrlooni. 
 
 And filial inecnse breathe upon thv tomb. 
 
 So may an ivy leaflet ever «»re(!n. 
 
 In the hereafter n])on miiu'. be seen ; 
 
 Or when the dei)t ;o Nature due is paid, 
 
 A violet may show where ''Albyn's" laid. 
 
 Come ye celestial <j;mn-(lians of my youth. 
 My well beloved — Tenderness and Truth — 
 Tho' moi./nful sighs aseend from ev'iy line. 
 Vta present now to favour my desiij;n. 
 No fabled Muse shall o'er my verse preside, 
 Mine is a theme admits no fancied jijuide; 
 Affection calls! lot no such call be vain, 
 As is the counsel, such shall be the strain. 
 
 My own dear Mother! Nature urges me 
 To some expression of my love to thee, 
 For those endearments lavish'd on the child. 
 Still on the scrolls of recodeetion piled — 
 The pleasing jests for my diversion made, 
 The Baby songs with kisses well repaid ; 
 Tales, oft repeated, still they seem'd so new. 
 And like the truth, I wished them to be true. 
 As diamonds gather'd in Golconda's mine, 
 I've treasured np whatever has been thine. 
 
 The little flowerplot, smallest of the small. 
 The Dial column in the garden wall. 
 The well wherein a fav'ritc ti-out would come, 
 And wag his tail until he got a crumb; ,, j.; 
 
 
AikI tiiiit (Iciir spot \vlicriM)ii, () wtjlfoint' ;Lfiie,'<(, 
 
 \ .skylark uv'ry Miimni'r hat] licr uesl. 
 
 N(»r (lid .slid staiilc as wi* went or caiuc, 
 
 lint cowi'i'M liiT liL-ati, and sal tln'i'c just the saiiu?. 
 
 Frovidt'ij Jfnns with over-tMirious ijyu, 
 
 Did not approacli lior ^jji'as.sy (toiirli loo nl;;Ii. 
 
 Sucli wcic tlie freaks of infancy, lln* iJoy 
 Too has (-oinc relics to reconnt with joy, 
 Tho' aoeniin;,' tritles they nn^jniont the ileht 
 ( )t' <;i'atitM(h' the Man would not forj^et ; 
 It not the Midi, then how innch less the so'i — 
 Who lias alren<ly such a reck'nin;f run ; 
 And not the least, (tho' .siraii<j;u it 'nay appear 
 That childish thinufs should loom so largely here.) 
 15'it not the least albeit the nierest toy, 
 I'he kite your lin;4ers t'aslii(.>ned, j^ave nie joy. 
 Xor was the ra|)tni*e that it ('(iidd convey 
 Dt'void o[ fear that it would fly away; 
 IJewilder'd often how the air .so hij^h, 
 Coidd lift it up, and keep it in the sky. 
 
 Another speck, nnuMiji'st a thousand more 
 Is still distin^iiiisliM in my youthlul lore ; 
 The water-whetd in miniaturi; that run. 
 in ("U'U^rhside cojtse ir.y admiration won ; 
 Which a Ifird JauUHc to divert \\m mind, 
 When far "outhye" in .'^olitude desi^^n'd. 
 And then to turn it ha<l contri\ed to l)rin<<^ 
 The vtM'iest drildet from a distant sprin;;. 
 All trivial sorrow.s, such as mine could he, 
 \Vere lost in visits to that '' Mill," with thee. 
 
 C'lass'd with the ki'e])sake.s time consents to spare 
 The Bi-e.s, and Beehives ai'e preserved with cai'e ; 
 Their story told in accents soft and sweet, 
 My cpiestionin;j;s would call thee to repeat : 
 O happy days! how bright in weal au<l woe, 
 On memory's mysterious map they jjlow. 
 
 Like foa»rd)ells toss'd on a returnin«; tide. 
 Or on the strand, in fra;iments flunji aside — 
 Some waifs that in the warp of life appear, 
 Are symbols of a presence ever dear — 
 Symbols that do oblivion's sceptre spurn, 
 And tor the Poet bids the past retmui ; '- ' 
 
 For him that past, where delicately wove, ' ' 
 
 Arc found the traces of a Mother's love — 
 Traces tho linguist chtilleiiges in vuiii, ';.r 
 
5 
 
 Nor may iiitin-pivtcrs tlu'ir .ni-cretrt ;;aiii. 
 Yet is tlu'ii* idiom no f^ucU irksomt^ kind 
 As stolid sfiidi'iits ill |)r('('c])t<»rs liiid ; 
 Fools that a motlu'r's coiinselitij^'s jlcspiM'. 
 May from such tahli'ts turn away their cyt'.s : 
 Hilt cKMt^rh, ami cairn, uiul cliff, and tower, and tr 
 Arc I'cdolcnt of sanctities l(j uu\. 
 
 Still full of life, and lov(diness as when 
 Wc iralher'd Xnts. appears tiie l)()veshan<.di ;.den- 
 Doveshan^di, that by possi'ssion had become 
 The cnshat's own hereditary home ; 
 And in the Antnmn schoolboys had a share 
 Of what was f<Mind \ipon the ha/.cds there. 
 I low stranjre that lite and lov(diness so lonjr. 
 Sjionhl ^irace the levees of a son of sonir ; 
 How prodifial of mirth and mn<ic, honrs 
 Of mine are wasted worshippintr the How'rs, 
 In mnltitn<l(;s on mnltitndes aronn<l 
 Distillin'i: fra.LrraiKH' in that dell are fonnd. 
 Sleep n^' anil sleepless, drciaming or awake, 
 llnnjarr'd the midnight rambles there I take, 
 Waitini; and watehin^r, wearyin;:j, wond'rin^ how 
 INIy mother is not thei'c !)esidi^ me now. 
 
 A bloomiiiLT I'hisih; prickly ^recn and iriand 
 Then; once be'.niiled me from thy jrniding hand. 
 And graspinj^ at the coronal it wore, 
 (A novic(! then unto the stiii;|S it bore,) 
 A painlnl lesson on obtrnsivenes.s 
 Was liNvrnM that verse like mine can ill express; 
 And thy rebukes then with my tears cotnbincd. 
 Are wedded with that thistle in my mind 
 Ih'tict? ntterance to many a thonjiht is stemm'd, 
 That woidd in tranquil moments be condemned. 
 
 lint moi'e endear'd is tlie three ronicr^l «;recn 
 Where many a time my playmate thou hast been, 
 IJy use ami ;roj//, permitted to divide 
 What tracks the teams had worn on either side : 
 In shape the jibsheet on a vessel mi^rht 
 Some outline furnish to an artist's si;j;ht. 
 Hut feeble aid poetic numbers lend 
 Unto what length and breadth it mav extend. 
 Or syllable how beautifully true ' ' 
 
 Uneall'd, the f/nshat comes before my view. 
 That lovely spot iti Edeulike repose, 
 No ruthless hand had ventured to enclose; .' . 
 
 ee, 
 
6 
 
 Ia'H tluTc «li.st)\MH'(l, (nil l'l^o hointr Nohlcmafi 
 
 Ily ini^'lit. or ri^ilit kopt iii))l«'rtR>atli liin ban, 
 
 Nor ot'ilic tilli'.s (o ilu! lioivlcr land, 
 
 Is any !*lron<^««r than llic sword in liaiid ;) 
 
 lit'l't llicrc disown'd since rrcvnn roiwn'd abroad, 
 
 And I'otmd tlicir sati-ly in the nearest rojid 
 
 To ";ain the hridL;e, that mossy, ronj'h, >ind <;rev. 
 
 There spans the valley in an aw kwnrd «ay, 
 
 And looks (orbid<lin>; in the tine detcnir 
 
 NVhere (y'len'jliside waters into Oxmun's pour. 
 
 Nor <'onld slnpidily Juive (art her f^one 
 
 Astray, eonstrnetirifr anything: ot stone ; 
 
 Ashlers nn<l?'essM, if siich deserxe the inline 
 
 or ashler, as it from tin; fjnarry eame. 
 
 AVniilst slabs and boidd«'rs snl)stilntes were nnnU* 
 
 For eopiiijL;'. on the parapet wen^ laifl. 
 
 Narrow and old, and it was coniitcd rare, 
 'I'hat Border t(»nrist.s notieed it was then*; 
 Kveii Amatenrs. and Anti(piarians vain 
 ()t' what is njrly eyed it with disdain ; 
 Ot't did the teamsters con, oi" cnrse a prayer. 
 Who passed alonfi I in- perilons afl'air. 
 Nor Were the coltajicrs which dwidt lher»? few 
 Who saw, — at least, bi'lieved they saw a crew 
 Of fairies dancin'r. when the moon was bright. 
 Upon the keystone! at the noon of ni^^ht. 
 And vanish suddenly when day beffali 
 To break at morn, as only fairies can. 
 
 lint what a\ails that it may not fidlil 
 The formula of Archilecil'ral skill. 
 Or nniy no lustre — to tlu^ sketchbooks lend. 
 Of rustic thinjfs etithnsiasts may have penn'd : 
 ( )r be iontnl waniin;i in that special jriaci; 
 Ijpon Cathedrals classic eyes can trace. — 
 Seen thro' the shades of lonn departed vears. 
 To me — to me far other it a|>])ears. 
 What tho' to aires past it may belon<r, ' 
 
 It wiis the nurse of Albyn's earlit'St son^ : '• 
 And clnster'd on that ancient thinjr, to me. 
 Are charms, were trifles, iNFotlier, but lor thee;. 
 
 Still day by day, iitichan^jed, imposinj^, bold, 
 Thonjrh uninvited, pleasin^jf to behold — 
 'I'hoso scenes of childhood eloquently claim, 
 A j)lace in mem'ry, Mother, with thy mime ; •' 
 'i'luiv fill the pauses in life's labour made ' ' 
 
 ; >■ 
 
And I'M'ii tlovotion'.x sacn-diics.s iiiviulo ; 
 0(t tiiid a<Iini»Hi(>iiH in the simdos of ni^lil 
 Widiiii tlic liall.s tliat carlldy planets li^rlit ; 
 Unr very oycs alllioujrli in slninlaTs seal'd 
 Do ready access to tlnir presence; yield. 
 No l>lnsli is mine tliat on the poet's heart 
 They inak«' impressions that do not depart ; 
 Their w illin^f dupe unconsciously I speinl 
 Unnieasure.d moments at the ohi liridueend. 
 
 Thei 
 
 ■e in the eveniiiirs when the <]aisies irrew. 
 
 ov. 
 
 Sp((rt would detain us till the fallinjr <lew ; 
 
 What leisure moments tlieii were thine to spare 
 
 liro .;iht with them frolics to en<.'a;j:e in there 
 
 Or in some ^janihol, where old Moss ijoeame 
 
 'I'he hesi accomplished actor in the ^'ame. 
 
 Walks |)lann'd by thee oti purpose for tlu! " H , , 
 
 'I'he twilight t'ouml us ready to (!njoy ; 
 
 If one excursion was to ^et the air . 
 
 Another le<I us to the coppice, where 
 
 TIm; ]Ma\ is' nest was in a leafy ti-ee 
 
 I felt so anxious to clin)l» up and sec. 
 
 Or down the banks of that poetic «(len 
 
 Where Oxnam flows, — familiar to me thei» 
 
 Wilh all its le;j;ends. and they were not few. 
 
 But old C'ragtow'r avoucliM them to be true ; 
 
 Or ;;p the margin of a restless rill. 
 
 'I'hat comes complaining from the I*ier,slaw-liill. 
 
 Without on<; single circumstance of fame 
 
 That might be added to a naked name. 
 
 Still, not a scene more beautiful and green > i 
 
 'J'liaii Clengh>i(le-burn in memory is seen. 
 
 lluw oft even now cpiite nnawares Viv caught 
 Reciting psalms and hymns thy lips have taught ; 
 Or conning tasks thy maimer made so sweet 
 Fnr me to leaiii, Jiiid i-nsy to repeat ; 
 '• 77/^ Lnnl's mi/ Shrpheni:' and the; "• Hnsji lir,:' 
 S. ' lead me back to childhood and to thee — 
 Still lead me back to hotirs when actions best 
 The I'uling passions of the soul attest : 
 AVheu duly as the uight and nioiiiing canu' 
 That prayerof prayers, stamped with the Saviour's name 
 In tones scarce audible — bow'd at her knee. 
 My Ooi), my mother heard me lisp tf) thee. 
 
 IIow vivid still before my eager gaze 
 Those hajjpy hours, those unforsrotten days • - 
 
cS 
 
 Iff 
 
 Pass ill review, as tlicy were wont to be, 
 
 But never pass, my Motlier, without tliee. ^ 
 
 Tliy features on the infant poet's lieart, V 
 V'lre {graven, never, never, to depart, 
 tiravcn ahis ! when pain and suflerin;^ shevv'd 
 What fond afKeittion in thy bosom jj^low'd ; 
 And tlio' but fain'i impressions then were made 
 Thine are tlioy, Mother, and tliey <lo not fade. 
 
 How I deli^fht tliy lineaments to traee. 
 Adorned witli equal modesty and <>fraee : 
 Unwearied patienee, eluuity as broad 
 As ever from a human bosom flow'd — 
 A heart o pity, and a hand l'> aid 
 As f'eelin/j; ])rompted, moi-e i n duty l)ade ; 
 Thy kindness seemed like some perpetual rill 
 Exhaustinjr always, but exliaustless still, 
 Sim|)le thy faith, thy piety uiil'ei^ii'd. 
 By precept tau^^ht, by ])raetiee not profaned : 
 A stran<_^or to those sudden bursts of ire, 
 Uid)ridled ])assions fi-e(iiuMitly insjiire ; 
 Deaf to the slandVer, or if thou didst heai". 
 The startling response always felt severe. 
 And those "'"".Id ;iive a nei<2;hb<)iM''s bosom pain 
 From thee, at least, no audiiiiee did obtain 
 If e'er unpleasin;^ tokens would av( w 
 A frown coUectinp; on thy ])laeid brow. 
 It was when eandoui" had been set aside 
 And falsehood did the ])alm with truth divide. 
 
 Some attributes the soul must surely owi; 
 More than the senses that to us are known, 
 Some more eleetrie incthod to impart 
 The latent loni2;in,ii:s of a mother's heart ; ' \. 
 
 How miieh beyond tlu; musie of thy voice — 
 A look of thine could make my heart rejoice. 
 
 Nor less a sigh eseapin/z from thy breast. 
 Did mine with grief as instantly invest ; 
 But C) thy smile, — (hat nothing can impair, 
 Such sway, and sweetness were commingled there 
 Blest ornament set with peculiar grace v ■•' 
 By Heaven itself on the maternal face, 
 And so resistless upon thine display'd 
 Whenever read, instinctively obey'd. t, . ,. ;u 
 Nor less efficient were thy words of love ^ 
 
 That could at once encourage and reprove. 
 The richest flow'rs that in creation spring — 
 
9 
 
 The jwcctcjit music wooiUand warblers !<'\u<^ — - , 
 Tlio deepest hliish that captivates the cyo , , ,, 
 
 On ocean inirror'd troni tlic ev'iiiii;^ sky, , , 
 However bland or heaiitiCiil they be, ,.-, , 
 
 Are always measured by a smile from thee. 
 
 Were it ])i!rmitted, — ah ! but who can tell, , i 
 What is pcrmittoil whcrt^ immortals dwellV 
 Then if the spirits in a world of l)liss 
 Ki'er come from glory to revisit this, 
 It- caiuiot be impossible that thou, 
 My Mother, may l»e present with me now. 
 To listen ? Nay but rather to ri^strain 
 As n.ortal praise, immortals may |)rofano, 
 
 IIow often still by more than fancy led, 
 I am beside thee at thy (lying bed. 
 Ah I these sad moments it was ours to part 
 Have never left, nor will they leave my heart ; 
 Nor have the five long decades that are past 
 A shadow o'er that day of sf)rrow cast. 
 How olten still this empty baud of mine 
 Feels the last pressure ever came from thine. 
 Or owns its gentle playfulness that told 
 Of deeper love than language can unfold. 
 How often still familiar to mv ear. 
 Some tones are whispered, tells me thou art near ; 
 How often still I seem to hear thee speak. 
 And feel as if thy breath were on my cheek. 
 Who will persuade me that at day's decline, 
 W^heu the first stars of ev'ning faintlv shine 
 And iMght's soft footsteps o'er the landscape steal. 
 Who will |)ersuade me that I tu;ver fe(d 
 (Delightful error — error if it be,) , , 
 
 Sensations, fancy cannot give to me; , , ; 
 
 Sensations felt — but tar beyond the sphere 
 Of utterance for those sojourning here 
 
 Tho' time and distance cast a letigthened shade 
 lietween my vision and where thou art laiil. 
 Yet still unchanged, it is before my view 
 And nightly there my visits I renew — i •• 
 
 Alike regardless whether darkness reign. , 
 
 ('r day |)uts on his regal robe again. 
 Wrapp'd in the tranquil slumbers of repose 
 (Jr sharing toil, " when uian to labour go<'S," 
 Still I am fouiul beside thy place of rest 
 In weeds of woe — a solitary guest. 
 
 The faithful tablet that was set to guard 
 
10 
 
 Thy (le.ii- reinaiii?*, abide>< lliere uiiiinpnir'il : 
 Fresh as it from the sculptoi'.s chisel caino. 
 It bears the brief memorial of thy name. 
 The little rosetree little hands with rare 
 Beside thee planted, is unwithcr'd there. 
 And not a footstep ever seems to |)asa 
 So near thy f»rave as to disturb the grass; 
 Bnt desolation everywhere appears, 
 Seen thro' the vistas in a mist of yeai's. 
 
 Whilst wanderin;! iti this wildernesis of woe. 
 Nor path, nor landmark to direct me — Lo ! 
 1 lift the volume of the past once more. 
 And turn the pages of remembrance o'er ; 
 Those pages hallowed with the lessons fraught 
 Thy lips and life so eminently taught. 
 To me tiiey breathe authority divine, 
 That filial love, and length of days combine ; 
 Assur'd tho' clouds mysterious intervene. 
 (Even when bereavements blessings may have been.) 
 Another guardian, — an unerring guide 
 Thro' the unseen a passage will provide, 
 Until, without a stone to mark the spot 
 I may lie down like thee and be forgot ; 
 Few then to mourn, — perhaps not one to weep — 
 Or wake the sleeper in his tranquil sleep. 
 
 Have I escaped the avenues of hell 
 Where sin's high priest and human demons dwell ? 
 Have 1 been kept fi-om temples where a crowd 
 Of Satan's servants day and nigl.t arc l)()w'(l ; 
 Have I been spared the tortures manifold 
 That Manunon's worship))ers must take with gold ? 
 And those more awful, — if more awful 's known 
 Among the votaries pleasure calls her own ; 
 Or is an unofTensive conscience mine, 
 Though sometimes wi-ong, yet never by design. 
 A name alas ! thotigh not from failinjxs free, 
 But few that woidd have claimed a blush from thee. 
 If in declining years I can rejoice 
 That "• wisdom's ways" were early made my choice. 
 It is to thee, my Mother, that I owe, 
 All under providence I inay be now.