My Mother! With the angels now, <br />Life's race completely run; <br />The Pilgrim's cross is laid aside, <br />The Christian's crown is won. <br /> <br />Full two-score years has thy frail bark <br />Relentlessly been driven, <br />Along the rugged shoals of time- <br />Now safely moored in heaven. <br /> <br />Some vision bright of Eden's land- <br />Some glimpse from Nebo's crest- <br />So ravished thy enraptured soul, <br />Then panting for its rest, <br /> <br />That when the City bathed in gold <br />Full burst upon your sight, <br />You would not tarry with us more; <br />Your spirit took its flight. <br /> <br />My Mother, when life's sands run low, <br />In love, in kindness come, <br />And take the spirit of thy child, <br />And bid her 'welcome home.'<br /><br />Mary Weston Fordham<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mrs-louise-b-weston/
