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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ON MY MOTHER'S FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY, by MARGARET MILLER DAVIDSON
First Line: Yes, mother, fifty years have fled
Last Line: This tribute of a daughter's pen.
Subject(s): Birthdays; Mothers
First Line: Yes, mother, fifty years have fled
Last Line: This tribute of a daughter's pen.
Subject(s): Birthdays; Mothers
YES, mother, fifty years have fled,
With rapid footsteps o'er thy head;
Have pass'd with all their motley train,
And left thee on thy couch of pain!
How many smiles, and sighs, and tears,
How many hopes, and doubts, and fears,
Have vanish'd with that lapse of years!
Though past, those hours of pain and grief
Have left their trace on memory's leaf,
Have stamp'd their footprints on the heart,
In lines which never can depart;
Their influence on the mind must be
As endless as eternity.
Years, ages, to oblivion roll,
Their memory forms the deathless soul;
They leave their impress as they go,
And shape the mind for joy or woe!
Yes, mother, fifty years have past,
And brought thee to their close at last
Oh that we all could gaze, like thee,
Back on that dark and tideless sea,
And 'mid its varied records find
A heart at ease with all mankind,
A firm and self-approving mind!
Grief, that had broken hearts less fine,
Hath only served to strengthen thine;
Time, that doth chill the fancy's play,
Hath kindled thine with purer ray;
And stern disease, whose icy dart
Hath power to chill the shrinking heart,
Has left thine warm with love and truth,
As in the halcyon days of youth.
Oh! turn not from the meed of praise
A daughter's willing justice pays;
But greet with smiles of love again
This tribute of a daughter's pen.
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