IaOEX1R M.

MY MOTHERS VOICE.
My mothers voice. how often creeps lis cadence on my lonely hours, Like healing sent on wings of sleep,

 Or dew on the unconscious flowers. 2 might forget her melting prayer,

 While pleasure's pulses madly fly; Bnt in the still, unbroken air,

 Her gentle tones come stealing by, And years of sin and sorrow fee, And leave me at my mothers knee. The hook of nature, and the print

 or beauty on the whispering sea, Gives sill to me some hneament

 Of what have been taught to be. If If v ileaft is harder, anu perhaps,

 Ny manliness has drunk up tears, A ..a there's snildew in the lapse

 Of a few miserable years But nature's book is even yet, With all my mothers lessons writ. I have been out at even-tide,

 Beneath moonlight sky of spring, When earth was garnished like bride, nd night had on her silver wing. And bursting buds and diamond grass, And waters leaping to the light, And all that make the pulses pass

 With wilderfieetnes ,thronged the night When all was beauty, then have ],

 With friends on whom my love is hung, bike fr,yrria. of wing of a.sat. Z. sa at.jr "

 Gazed up where evenings lamp IS hung. And when the beauteous spirit there

 Flung over me its. golden chain, Ny mothers voice came on the air,

 Like the last dropping of the rain, And resting on some silver star,

 The spirit of pended knee, I've pour'd the deep and fervent prayer, That our eternity might be, Torise in heaven like stars at night And tread g living path of light