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A MoTHER^s Story 
 
 BY MRS. A.-^' ELMORE. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE 
 
 CV 
 
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 OF NEWARK, N. J, 
 
 .M'fojCrjT 
 
 NEWARK, N. J. : 
 Amzi Pierson & Co., Stationers and Printers, i88 Market Street. 
 
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 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by 
 
 Mrs. a. Elmore, 
 
 in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
Down o'er the rocks, and through the vales, 
 
 There floweth e'er, with silver sheen— 
 A type of that which never fails — 
 
 A river, deep, and pure, and clean. 
 The birds may fold their wings and drink. 
 And fawns may linger at the brink. 
 And meadow grasses sip their fill, 
 And wild sweet flowers feel the thrill 
 
 Of the murm'ring praiseful song. 
 
 As the waters rush along. 
 
 So through the heart, if opened wide, 
 
 Shall flow an ever-blissful tide 
 
 Of mem'ries sweet pure love hath won 
 
 Through kindly words and deeds well done. 
 
 Then all the lines that Time may trace 
 
 Will add a touch of winsome grace 
 
 E'en to the fairest woman face 
 
 "Who helps to lift a fallen race. 
 
 The wine-god's chain of welded strength 
 
 To her strong faith must yield at length. 
 
Written at the request of my darling sister, Civilla E. Morrison, of 
 Meadville, Pa., one of the working bees in the great hive of true and 
 loving Christian women who dispense the honey of consolation and the 
 mead of courage to those who are in the toils of the Tempter, and so 
 gather to themselves inestimable sources for enjoyment during the Winter 
 of Life. 
 
 Presented to "The Women's Christian Temperance Union," of 
 Newark, N. J., by 
 
 The Authoress. 
 
PART I, 
 
 Mid faces calm, or falsely fair, 
 
 And brows by anxious lines o'ertraced. 
 Some bright with joy, some pale with care. 
 
 And some in stony guardin'gs cased. 
 In the city's varying chance, 
 
 I oft met one, so pure and strong, 
 No eye but gave a second glance. 
 
 From out the busy, restless throng. 
 I wondered if that woman soul. 
 
 So strangely strong, so lifted high. 
 Had quaffed from rim of mystic bowl 
 
 The nectared " Peace" for which we sigh. 
 
 Enthroned in mist of snowy hair, 
 
 And in her charming, noble face, 
 So ever calm, so dainty fair. 
 
 There reigned a true angelic grace. 
 Some hearts throbbed wildly, as she passed, 
 
 Urged by rankling, envious thought : 
 " Her sky with storms is not o'ercast ; 
 
 Her web of life is not inwrought 
 
With tangled skeins of bitter wrong 
 
 Most skillful hand can never right ; 
 Her heart is thrilled with joyous song ; 
 
 Her eyes see nought but sunny light." 
 Swift through ray brain the whisper sped, 
 
 Like flash from darkling thunder cloud, 
 " In pleasant paths her feet are led. 
 
 Else she were not so Ano;el-browed." 
 
 A vision seeraed she of the clime 
 
 Where change comes not, and Love doth reign 
 Where nought of sorrow, or of crime, 
 
 Can mar the peace, or leave a stain ; 
 A vision from some j)urer air. 
 
 That wakes a thought of Angel wings. 
 Along her pathway, oft a prayer 
 
 From arid hearts unbidden springs. 
 And purer thoughts swift enter in 
 
 The careless soul, when that pure eye 
 Reproof conveys, — reproof of sin. 
 
 So gently given to passers by. 
 
 Time drifted on, year after year, 
 
 Lito the past, beyond recall. 
 While never once upon my ear 
 
 Her name, or voice, had chanced to fall. 
 I named her — to myself alone — 
 
 In artist phrase, '' A Dream of Peace ;" 
 Nor sought to greet the fair unknown : 
 
 The dreamland glamour then might cease. 
 
PART IL 
 
 One Sabbath's quiet coaxed my feet 
 
 Within an humble house of prayer, 
 Where anthemed words, most wondrous sweet, 
 
 Trilled on the balmy summer air ; 
 And lo ! my friend, whose fair white hand 
 
 Had never then been clasped in mine. 
 With calm, sweet face, and eyes so grand 
 
 They seemed to me almost divine. 
 Looked searching into other eyes 
 
 Of woman faces gathered there, 
 A silent wist, that woke surprise. 
 
 And crimson tints, or angry stare. 
 
 Then, her rich voice, strong in the power 
 
 That comes of contrite ofttime plea. 
 With Resignation's wondrous dower, 
 
 Of rare entrancing harmony. 
 In touching words, her lips o'erbrimmed. 
 
 Sin-calloused hearts were deeply thrilled, 
 The earnest truths seemed Angel-hymned, 
 
 And all the grey-walled chapel filled 
 With air of Angel homes. Sweet Peace 
 
 On noiseless wings through some hearts swept, 
 
When lo ! their sorrows had surcease 
 
 In such sweet cahn, with joy they wept. 
 Then dropped her voice to phiintive tone, 
 
 And brimmed her eyes with tears unslied ; 
 Her lips but held at bay tlie moan 
 
 That with her words would .fijladly wed ; 
 A moment's silent, heart-deep prayer, 
 
 Swept from her eyes the blinding tears ; 
 Then through the stillness reigning there, 
 
 Ther'e fell these words on list'ning ears : 
 
 " My story I must tell to yon to-day, 
 
 Though ceaseless waves of sorrow surge and sway 
 
 Through my slow-healing, woe-bowed, weary heart, 
 
 And leaves ray being racked in every part. 
 
 My cry, that reaches to the throne of God, , 
 
 Is, let none other feel the chast'ning rod 
 
 As I have felt it, ere I learned to bow 
 
 And say. Thy will be done, O Lord, e'en now. 
 
 When youth, with lavish dowry, wondrous fair. 
 My rounded cheek with rose and lily decked. 
 
 My eyes held mirth so deeply mirrored there. 
 That Joy seemed all too sure to e'er be wrecked. 
 
 A wealth of hair fell glossy rippling down. 
 From fashion's bondage free, to curling cling 
 
 About my shoulders bare, or form a crown 
 That mocked in hue the raven's shining wing. 
 
9 
 
 Young Love came first upon the fairy scene, 
 
 And wove about my lieart a magic spell ; 
 But ere I knew tlie jewel's worth, its sheen 
 
 Was lost to sight — borne out upon the swell 
 Of Death's encroaching, e'er resistless sea ; 
 
 And I was left to moan, and wring my hands. 
 Or stretch them out in blind and wordless plea. 
 
 Toward the clouds above life's fitful sands. 
 
 Then was given to me a son — a princely son, 
 
 Whose ebon locks and dark bright eyes 
 Bore likeness to my own. My love was won 
 
 To all its depths. I learned to idolize 
 The jewel fair — the heaven-sent, princely gift, 
 
 And he was boldly throned my heart's true king. 
 No grateful incense did I kneeling lift, 
 
 No prayerful offering ever humbly bring. 
 
10 
 
 Each day seemed then a lieaven complete to me, 
 As my boy grew tall, and wise, strong, and fair, 
 
 Till manhood ruled instead of childish glee ; 
 Then, nought for him I would not do, or dare. 
 
 One morning, bright as summer morn could be, 
 
 I kissed his cheek, and watched with eager eyes 
 His graceful figure down the street. Ah, me ! 
 
 No thought had I of near and sad surprise. 
 No sun had set when I had failed to see 
 
 My precious one, and ne'er a dread surmise 
 Came trailing by. My thoughts from fear were free, 
 
 But oft employed new pleasure to devise. 
 
 Fast to my lightsome heart the day sped on. 
 To o'erflow filled with laughter and with song. 
 
11 
 
 That day — the last my son e'er looked upon — 
 I passed amid a gay and thoughtless throng. 
 
 In all his royal robing, gaily decked, 
 
 The Sun went down the far-off western skies, 
 As though in all his realm no liopes were wrecked, 
 
 And looking on were nowhere tear-filled eyes. 
 Yet ere the twilight's greying liour was done. 
 
 Came, slow and gently, stranger feet, to bring 
 What once had been my fair and princely son. 
 
 At my feet, they laid a mangled, shapeless thing- 
 A fearful thing for mother eyes to see : 
 
 The ghastly crushing of his forehead fair. 
 The pallid lips that held no word for me. 
 
 And crimson stainino; ot his dark-hued hair. 
 
 A hand that else had been his friend's, 
 
 When maddened by the red wine's evil tire, 
 Thrilled with the demon hate, that oft attends 
 
 And conquers manhood, with strong passion's ire 
 Had rudely broken Life's so brittle thread — 
 
 With murd'rous arm had stilled a Jcindly heart, 
 And sent him mangled home to me. Not dead ; 
 
 For reeking odors pressed his lips apart. 
 I knelt and prayed to him : " Oh ! once again 
 
 But speak my name, or ope your kindly eyes, 
 Or tell me liow to soothe your dying pain." — 
 
 No look or word gave answei* to my cries. 
 
 For aye were still, his willing, active feet ; 
 
 His shapely hands held Death's stiffening cramp ; 
 His loving, wayward heart, must cease to beat ; 
 
 His lips must wear Death's seal, so cold and damp. 
 
12 
 
 And I must walk henceforth through life alone. 
 
 My idol, formed of fairest human clay, 
 Had fallen from its love-reared, lofty throne ; 
 
 Low at my feet, all wrecked and crushed, it lay, 
 
 And I was plunged in night more dark and dense 
 Than earth had ever known when storm prevailed ; 
 
 A childless widow, — whelmed with grief intense, — 
 Death's shadowy form I would have gladly hailed. 
 
 Not one swift flowing tear had I to shed, 
 
 No wild and bitter plaint, no sound of moan ; 
 But shocked, and dumb, from that sad sight was led 
 
 By gentle hands away. The kindest tone 
 I heard not in that hour of dark despair. 
 
 So slow the night-watch wore at last away, 
 While still my eyes held fast their tearless stare, 
 
 At dawn my ebon locks were silvery grey, 
 And from my lips the wonted smile was gone; 
 
 My cheeks had lost for aye their rosy bloom. 
 The storm had passed, and lo ! I drifted on 
 
 Tln-ougli life's overshadowed sea and ceaseless gloom. 
 
 Tliat awful, dumb despair, gave way at last 
 
 To thrilling thoughts — accusing, mournful tones ; 
 
13 
 
 And trailing by, in sable robes, The Past 
 
 Filled all my being with regretful moans : 
 For I, who loved him more than else on earth — 
 
 More, by far, than aught in heaven above — 
 Had blindly cursed him, — even from his birth 
 . Had taught his baby lips the wine to love ; 
 Had marked the sparkling depths, and held the glass 
 
 To drink his health ; smiling when his wit was keen, 
 When flashed his beaming eyes — that now, alas ! 
 
 Could answer mine no more. Their dark-hued sheen 
 Was lost beneath the mystic seal of Death ; 
 
 And lo ! the curse had fallen most on me. 
 I dared not pray. With strange, half-fainting breath, 
 
 Only a presence dread I seemed to see. 
 So vengeful were its sleepless, searching eyes. 
 
 So wide its night-dark, noiseless wings were spread, 
 They smothered all my proud heart's useless cries, 
 
 And burdened all my life with ceaseless dread. 
 
 I had not where to hide me from the gaze 
 
 Of " The Avenging One." So, held "at bay. 
 Mocked by memories of other, happy days, 
 
 Veiled froui the world by mask of smiling gay, 
 I found, at last, a sheltered, narrow path. 
 
 Through tlie vista, dim and far, fell a stream 
 Of light, so pure, the ever-haunting wrath 
 
 Of the weighting curse could not hide the gleam. 
 How eager all my strength I garnered then. 
 
 While o'er my lips there swept such earnest plea. 
 As on I sped along the awesome glen — • 
 
 Where penitential tears are shed so tree — 
 On tow'rd the gate, far up the mountain height, 
 
 The blessed gate, that opes on Paradise. 
 On, right on, and the beacon-light 
 
 Seemed a kingly glory to my weary eyes. 
 
14 
 
 On, through the new-found, safe and restful way, 
 I followed fast, with heart grown strangely light, 
 
 And, lifting up my voice, I learned to pray. 
 My feet at last had found the path of right. 
 
 Then to me was given this work to do : 
 In love, I show to loving mother eyes 
 
 The need to shun the wine-cup's tempting hue ; 
 For in its depths a fell destroyer lies. 
 
 No hand can touch the base, unhallowed tiling. 
 Or brinii' within the walls whicli Love hath built 
 
 The subtle power, and think to miss the sting- 
 It leaves at last, in demon-prompted guilt. 
 
 That we each may prove brave and true, and strong, 
 
 Let all hearts here in meekness bow them low. 
 And pray for strength to light each human wrong. 
 
 For guiding wisdom in the way we go ; 
 Patient, when all our work seems wholly lost. 
 
 And wayward feet are oft inclined to stray ; 
 Willing, without the thought to count the cost ; 
 
 Earnest to glean througli all the weary day.*" 
 
 Many a tear-filled, loving eye 
 
 Was lifted up to Him on high. 
 
 Whose arm of strength was all made bare 
 
 For conquest, through the power of prayer. 
 
15 
 
 PART III, 
 
 Deep graven, as with magic pen, 
 And brighter now than even then, 
 I see within that chapel wall 
 The pleading woman — hear her call, 
 Addressed to Him who held her trust, 
 The Ever Loving, Ever Just. 
 The graceful form, so tall, and straight ; 
 The open eyes, that sought the gate 
 Where pass the angels to and fro, 
 With balm to heal the wounds of woe ; 
 Beseeching raised, her fair white hands. 
 As lifting up the golden strands 
 Of lieart-deep prayer, all unheard 
 By mortal ear. But not a word 
 Sandalphon lost, low hovering there 
 To bind in wreaths their every prayer ; 
 And in his mercy-moulded cup, 
 To dew the wreaths, were gathered up 
 The mother's tears, that softly fell, 
 O'erflowing from a new-found well. 
 
 Then, softly through the Summer haze, 
 The sun dropped down some glory rays 
 O'er the tearful, up-turned face, 
 Adding to the spirit-grace 
 Beaming on her cheeks so fair. 
 Crowning rich her snowy hair, 
 Kunning like a golden thread 
 Through the words her sweet lips said — 
 Words from out tlie heart-deep well. 
 More full of love than she could tell. 
 E'en when the rising crystal swell 
 O'erflowed in tears, that softly fell 
 
16 
 
 Unheeded o'er her cheeks adown, 
 Bright ghnting on her silken gown, 
 Like the crystal drops of dew 
 Morn's fair angel loves to strew 
 O'er the flowers, as her feet 
 Wake the odors, j^assing sweet. 
 
 Wond'rous face, in pleading raised ; 
 Clear, true eyes, that upward gazed 
 Where the portals open stand — 
 Portals of the heavenly land. 
 O that earnest, heart-full prayer 
 Must find welcome entrance there. 
 " Dear Lord," her lips a-tremble speak, 
 " We sisters all Thy grace do seek. 
 Here, humbly kneeling at Thy gate. 
 In tearfulness and faith, we wait 
 The answer pledged in Thy dear Word — 
 No prayer floats by Thy throne unheard. 
 To mother-love Thy guidance grant ; 
 Within all hearts, we pray Thee, plant 
 The spring of life — ' A love for Thee.' 
 From that pure fount temptations flee. 
 These mothers. Lord, when life is done, 
 May at Thy feet lay every son. 
 If so they will to do Thy will, 
 And all their holy duties fill. 
 
17 
 
 Like arms of love, that gather in 
 And save the lost from thrall of sin, 
 My arms would clasp and lift to Thee 
 All woman hearts, till they were free 
 From craven fear, and strong and brave 
 To work with Thee, and help to save 
 From that broad way which leads to woe, 
 While glaring lights and mocking show 
 Hide well the proof, the shame, and wrong, 
 That have their birth wliere'er the throng 
 Of thoughtless ones their wine-cups drain, 
 To feel the fire course tlu-ough the brain. 
 
 Help us to break the spoiler's snare. 
 
 For careless feet spread everyv/here. 
 
 Help all to 'scape the wine-cup's thrall, 
 
 Ere far from Mercy's gate they fall. 
 
 Help each on Thee, the strong, to lean. 
 
 While 'neath Thy love their heads they screen 
 
 From the tempest howling by — 
 
 From the tempter watching nigh. 
 
 And I, dear Lord," (low bend her knees,) 
 
 " Whom Tliou hast brought through troubled seas, 
 
 Hear Tliou my cry : clothe Thou my heart 
 
 With power all Thine ; new strength impart, 
 
 That I each vantage gained may hold. 
 
 And in Thy cause be firm and bold. 
 
 Although Thou choosest weak, frail hands 
 
 To crush the giant's galling bands, 
 
 'Tis Thine tlie honor all shall be. 
 
 When we shall come to reign witli Thee." 
 
 Still more her fair head seemed to bow ; 
 Her hands unclasped, and pressed her brow ; 
 The tears, that trickled o'er each palm 
 In silence, brought the needed calm. 
 
18 
 
 All hearts were joined in sweet refrain, 
 When her sweet lips were oped again, 
 In low-voiced words a child might ken, 
 " Thy blessing grant us now — Amen." 
 
 PART IV 
 
 Low the shadows length'ning fall 
 To the farther chapel wall ; 
 Drops the sun adown the sky, 
 And the evening draweth nigh — 
 The evening of the Sabbath-day 
 That brought to many hearts a ray 
 Of hope and joy, in the thought, 
 " Woman hands have useful wrought 
 In the vineyard — oh, so wide — 
 Where the Lord doth ever guide 
 E'en the gleaners through the held, 
 While His arm doth safely shield 
 From the storms that hover near. 
 Till the ' Harvest Home ' we hear." 
 
 Then apart they wend their way. 
 Blessed close of blessed day, 
 That wove such tender, subtle bands. 
 Expressed in touch of mother hands. 
 Strong golden threads pure love had spun ; 
 A cabled strength, but just begun. 
 That soon will lift all women near 
 The fount of truth, so crystal clear. 
 
19 
 
 Then they shall win, through love alone, 
 The boons they crave, and full atone 
 For years of sloth by earnest lite. 
 
 The sister fair, tlie loving wife, 
 The mother clear, whose snowy hair 
 Is blanched and grey with wearing care. 
 And fairy child, with winsome way. 
 
 Will all unite, a grand array. 
 And conq'ring come to break the charm 
 That lurks in drink ; — 't will cease to harm 
 The fair and brave, the good and true. 
 
 His kingdom gone, with nought to do, 
 And all men free through woman's power, 
 King Rum must die. God speed that hour. 
 And save the sons that crown the lives 
 Of mothers true ; and bless the wives 
 That sorrow now in half despair. 
 And droop and die 'neath burd'ning care. 
 
 Then none may say, as oft my friend. 
 While faithfully her footsteps wend 
 Through all the dark and winding ways 
 Where outcast woman willing strays, 
 
20 • 
 
 Througli brilliant glare of gaudy hall 
 
 Where many througli temptations fall : 
 
 " All coming days so spent, my own 
 
 For thy dear life can not atone, 
 
 Nor blot my sins away so clean 
 
 My soul will find its virgin sheen ; 
 
 For I, oh son of mine, must wear 
 
 This ever galling chain, and bear 
 
 The thought, too true, renewed each day, 
 
 A life laid waste, and led astray 
 
 A soul God-given. In love I ween 
 
 A glimpse of heaven,' so pure and clean, 
 
 A careless mother's hand has lost ; 
 
 And none may know the awful cost 
 
 In weary pain, in shame, and tears, 
 
 In doubts, and awesome, ceaseless fears." 
 
n-ii-y^ 
 
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