Classic Poem

T ETIE , in that far country where thou art,
Thou canst not hear thy mother's ceaseless moan;
Thou canst not know the yearning of her heart,
Nor see how desolate her path has grown.
'Tis better thus. I would not grieve thee now,
Nor dare to murmur at our Father's will.
But come and lay thy white hand on my brow,
And whisper, “Mother, Tetie loves thee still.”
Come, darling, come.

Together, long ago, we went life's way—
A glad young mother and a fair-haired child:
I taught thy feet to walk, thy lips to pray,
And thy sweet prattle all my hours beguiled.
And so we went together down the years,
Noting time only when we were apart;
Sharing each other's joys, each other's tears;
Living and loving with one mind and heart
In our old home.

Thy feet grew weary ere life's morning sun
Exhaled the dewdrops from its opening flowers;
Before its noon thy little day was done;
The gain was thine—the loss, the anguish ours.
But while stern duties urge my footsteps on,
And lonely, weary days their cares repeat,
Immortal Hope stands pointing to the dawn
Of that to-morrow when our souls shall meet
On some bright plain.

Sometimes I seem to hear thy baby feet
Making the old, sweet music on the floor,
Or turn, in glad expectancy, to greet
Thy face, like sunshine stealing through the door.
Alas! that face is cold and silent now;
On the pale lips there is no life, no breath;
White blossoms, wreathed around thy marble brow,
Crown thee, O my fair child! the bride of death.
Ah! bitter pain.

I call thee by the pet name, fond and dear,
That bore such tender meaning to thy heart:
Even this voice of love thou canst not hear.
In such short time are we so far apart?
Is it a long, long way to thy new home
Beyond the skies, the stars, the worlds we see?
Then rest thee, darling, if thou canst not come;
Through all that distance I will go to thee.
Wait, Tetie, wait,

Wait for me; I am coming, coming fast;
Each fleeting moment bears me on my way;
These trembling pulses soon will beat their last;
Nor would I ask of Heaven an hour's delay.
Come down and meet me on the other shore;
I will be with thee soon, by God's good grace;
And when the struggle and the strife are o'er,
Give me thy hand, take me to thine embrace.
Wait, darling, wait.