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SONGS FROM THE ST. LAWRENCE.
And fainting hearts, that hold it up,
Sink one by oneó In that dark clime each rising hope
With them goes down!
Listen to that despairing cry
From a dark host! Listen! ere every wind shall sigh,
I 'm thinking of my Mother
In this sad, dismal hour, When stormy winds and rains come down
With chilling, wintry power.
I think how oft in autumn,
When winds blew wild and cold,
"We gather'd round our mother's knee," To hear some story told.
I 'm thinking of my Motheró
How pleasantly she smiled ! I mark'd her cheerfulness of soul,
When I was but a child.
And then in days of weariness,
That came in after years, I saw her struggling calmly on
Amid submissive tears.