p. 431 | MY MOTHER THAT DIED by Marcus and Mary McSwaine

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Sep 30, 1880

MY MOTHER THAT DIED.

By Marcus and Mary McSwaine

I AM all alone in my chamber now, The midnight hour is near, And the fagot's crack, and the clock's dull tick, Are the only sounds I hear; And o'er my soul, in its solitude, Sweet feelings of sadness glide; For my heart and my eyes are full when I think Of my mother dear that died.

I went one night to my father's house Went home to the dear ones all, And softly I opened the garden gate, And softly the door of the hall; My father came out to meet his daughter, He kissed me, and then he sighed, And his head fell low on my neck as he wept For my mother dear that died.

And as I gazed on her innocent face, As still and cold she lay, And thought what a dear mother she had been, And how soon she must decay: "O death! thou lov'st the beautiful," In the woe of my spirit I cried; For sparkled the eyes, and the forehead was fair, Of my mother dear that died.

We shall all go home to our Father's house— To our Father's house on high— Where the hope of our souls shall have no blight, And our love no broken tie; We shall roam on the banks of the River of Peace, And bathe in its blissful tide; And one of the joys of our heaven shall be Our mother dear that died!

June 18, 1880. MARCUS and MARY MCSWAINE.