To fit me to die and teach me to live.  

   She told me that shame would never betide,  

   With truth for my creed and God for my guide  

   She taught me to lisp my earliest prayer,  

   As I knelt beside that old arm-chair.  

   I sat and watched her many a day,  

   When her eye grew dim and her locks were gray;  

   And I almost worshipped her when she smiled,  

   And turned from her Bible to bless her child.  

   Years rolled on, but the last one sped—  

   My idol was shattered, my earth-star fled;  

   I learned how much the heart could bear,  

   When I saw her die in that old arm-chair.  

   'Tis past, 'tis past, but I gaze on it now  

   With quivering breath and throbbing brow:  

   'Twas there she nursed me, 'twas there she died;  

   And memory flows with lava tide.  

   Say it is folly, and deem me weak  

   While the scalding tears drop down my cheek:  

   But I love it, I love it, and cannot tear  

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