Thought I was with my mother. Mother! reader, hast thou a mother? not
a mere nominal parent--one who brought thee into the world, and then
left thee to struggle in’t--one who gave thee but a moiety of her
tenderness? Nay, nay; I do not mean such. But I mean, one whose very
life was wrapp’d up in thee, one whose eye moistened with thine, whose
voice faltered with thine, whose heart reflected every shadow which
passed over thy heart, even as a lake the summer clouds, that idle
above its bosom. Such an one I mean--hadst ever such? I had--and how I
loved her. Did I not?--the following verses prove it.