My Mother’s Bible (Morris)

This book is all that’s left me now!

Tears will un­bid­den start—

With fal­ter­ing lip and throb­bing brow

I press it to my heart.

For many ge­ne­ra­tions past

Here is our fa­mi­ly tree!

My mo­ther’s hands this Bi­ble clasped

She

dy­ing

gave it me.

Ah

well do I re­mem­ber those

Whose names these re­cords bear;

Who round the hearth-stone used to close

After the ev­en­ing prayer

And speak of what these pag­es said

In tones my heart would thrill!

Though they are with the si­lent dead

Here are they liv­ing still!

My father read this ho­ly book

To bro­thers

sis­ters dear;

How calm was my poor mo­ther’s look

Who leaned God’s Word to hear!

Her an­gel face—I see it yet!

What throng­ing me­mo­ries come—

Again that lit­tle group is met

Within the halls of home!

Thou tru­est friend man ev­er knew

Thy con­stan­cy I’ve tried;

When all were false I found thee true

My coun­sel­or and guide.

The mines of earth no trea­sures give

That could this vol­ume buy;

In teach­ing me the way to live

It taught me how to die.