Yes, I have sung of others' woes, <br /> Until they almost seem'd mine own, <br />And fancy oft will scenes disclose <br /> Whose being was in thought alone: <br /> <br />Her magic power I've cherished long, <br /> And yielded to her soothing sway; <br />Enchanting is her syren song, <br /> And wild and wond'rous is her way. <br /> <br />But thou—whene'er I think on thee, <br /> Those glittering visions fade away; <br />My soul awakens, how tenderly! <br /> To pleasures that can ne'er decay. <br /> <br />There's not an hour of life goes by <br /> But makes thee still more firmly dear; <br />My sighs attend upon thy sigh, <br /> My sorrows wait upon thy tear: <br /> <br />For earth has nought so good, so pure, <br /> That may compare with love like thine— <br />Long as existence shall endure, <br /> Thy star of guiding love shall shine! <br /> <br />O'er other stars dark clouds may lower, <br /> And from our path their light may sever— <br />They lived to bless us but an hour, <br /> But thine shall live to bless us ever!<br /><br />Louisa Stuart Costello<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-my-mother-6/
