I LOVE it, I love it ; and who shall dare <br /> To chide me for loving that old Arm-chair ? <br /> I've treasured it long as a sainted prize ; <br /> I've bedewed it with tears, and embalmed it with sighs. <br /> ' Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart ; <br /> Not a tie will break, not a link will start. <br /> Would ye learn the spell ? -- a mother sat there ; <br /> And a sacred thing is that old Arm-chair. <br /> <br /> In Childhood's hour I lingered near <br /> The hallowed seat with listening ear ; <br /> And gentle words that mother would give ; <br /> To fit me to die, and teach me to live. <br /> She told me shame would never betide, <br /> With truth for my creed and God for my guide ; <br /> She taught me to lisp my earliest prayer ; <br /> As I knelt beside that old Arm-chair. <br /> <br /> I sat and watched her many a day, <br /> When her eye grew dim, and her locks were grey : <br /> And I almost worshipped her when she smiled, <br /> And turned from her Bible, to bless her child. <br /> Years rolled on; but the last one sped-- <br /> My idol was shattered; my earth-star fled : <br /> I learnt how much the heart can bear, <br /> When I saw her die in that old Arm-chair. <br /> <br /> 'Tis past, 'tis past, but I gaze on it now <br /> With quivering breath and throbbing brow : <br /> 'Twas there she nursed me ; 'twas there she died : <br /> And Memory flows with lava tide. <br /> Say it is folly, and deem me weak, <br /> While the scalding drops start down my cheek ; <br /> But I love it, I love it ; and cannot tear <br /> My soul from a mother's old Arm-chair.<br /><br />Eliza Cook<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-arm-chair/
