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Poem

I was a boy then
Betwixt conforming and transforming
The ways of men
I met in you virtue most disharming
The pious thought
Bright patience caught
The kindly words, and tender deeds
Of love: they sear
On me deep impressions, like seeds
Making deep roots here
Like rivers trenching and cleansing all
Hence my poem's tear
That such a golden leaf should ever fall,
You, no more there?

Those college days still
Like bright canvas painted by memory
Halls of delight fill
When we tell anecdotes of life and history
And in them all
My heart is entralled
A lady sits amidst the squalor of time, she
Circled in kindness
From her children's eyes, exudes a beauty
That lights all dimness
And causes her husband engorged with joy
To praise God loudly
While she prays, reads, or sings with no alloy
Of earth's misery.

In your presence there
I fell in love, and called you mother softly
And held God dear
In such a common place a tree of beauty
Sheltering us then
Grace and love blend
In you, aged and ailing in church long last
Did not retire
Nor tell a close of door upon the happy past
Jew told me, later
That you are gone, I wept the ignorance of it
And here suffer
That I did not a quiet moment by you then sit
Love to render.

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