Classic Poem

I love thee, I love thee, and life will depart
Ere thy mother forgets thee, sweet child of her heart;
Yea, death's shadows only my memory can dim,
For thou'rt dearer than life to me—Mary Achin.

I love thee, I love thee, and six years hath now fled
Since first on my bosom I pillow'd thy head;
Since I first did behold thee in sorrow and sin,
Thou sweet offspring of false love—my Mary Achin.

I love thee, I love thee, and twelve months hath now past,
My sweet child, since I gazed on thy fairy form last;
And our parting brought sorrow, known only to Him
Who can see through the heart's depths—my Mary Achin.

I love thee, I love thee, oh! when shalt thou rest
Thy sweet angel face on this heart-burning breast;
Thy last parting kiss lingers still on my chin,
Embalmed with a blessing from Mary Achin.

I love thee, I love thee, thy beauty and youth
Are spotless and pure as the fountain of truth;
Thou'rt my star in the night, till daybreak begin,
And my sunshine by noontide—my Mary Achin.

I love thee, I love thee, wherever I go
Thou'rt shrined in my bosom in joy or in woe;
A murmuring music my fancy doth win,
'Tis the voice of my darling—Mary Achin.

I love thee, I love thee, is ever my lay,
I sigh it by night and I sing it by day,
Its chorus swells forth like the stern patriot's hymn,
Thrice hallowed with visions of Mary Achin.

I love thee, I love thee, though now far away
Thou'rt nearer and dearer to me every day;
Would they give me my choice—a nation to win—
I would not exchange with my Mary Achin.