103

101
The Last
And now I'm left alone, alone
Upon this dreary earth;
The last of those who in my youth,
Met round our native hearth;-
When thought on memory's rapid wing,
Flies backward to those years,
How near, how distant, yet how bright
That kindred group appears!
I see e'en now, the spot where stood
My father's oaken chair,
His aged, venerable form,
His smoothe & silvery hair;
His well worn Bible — and I hear
His deep impressive tone,
While asking blessings on our heads
He sought his father's throne.
My mother too, how plain I see
Her seat beside the door,
I see her sweet contented smile,
The very cap she wore.
The seven that sat round them there,
Their pride & hope and care -
My sister's light and social glee;
My brother's manly air.
Sweet scene & do I weep! what change
Is wrought in sixty years!

[left margin]
Sent the original of this to Zebulon & son Feb. 10th 1897

101
The Last
And now I'm left alone, alone
Upon this dreary earth;
The last of those who in my youth,
Met round our native hearth;-
When thought on memory's rapid wing,
Flies backward to those years,
How near, how distant, yet how bright
That kindred group appears!
I see e'en now, the spot where stood
My father's oaken chair,
His aged, venerable form,
His smoothe & silvery hair;
His well worn Bible — and I hear
His deep impressive tone,
While asking blessings on our heads
He sought his father's throne.
My mother too, how plain I see
Her seat beside the door,
I see her sweet contented smile,
The very cap she wore.
The seven that sat round them there,
Their pride & hope and care -
My sister's light and social glee;
My brother's manly air.
Sweet scene & do I weep! what change
Is wrought in sixty years!

[left margin]
Sent the original of this to Zebulon & son Feb. 10th 1897