Page:The black man - his antecedents, his genius, and his achievements (IA blackmanantecede00browrich).pdf/206

 A sudden flood of rosy light Filled all the dusky wood, And, clad in shining robes of white, My angel mother stood.

She gently drew me to her side, She pressed her lips to mine, And softly said, "Grieve not, my child; A mother's love is thine. I know the cruel wrongs that crush  The young and ardent heart; But falter not; keep bravely on,  And nobly bear thy part.

"For thee a brighter day's in store; And every earnest soul That presses on, with purpose high,  Shall gain the wished-for goal. And thou, beloved, faint not beneath  The weary weight of care; Daily before our Father's throne  I breathe for thee a prayer.

"I pray that pure and holy thoughts May bless and guard thy way; A noble and unselfish life  For thee, my child, I pray." She paused, and fondly bent on me One lingering look of love, Then softly said,—and passed away,— "Farewell! we'll meet above."

I woke, and still the silver moon In quiet beauty shone;