Collected by a Mother for Some Very Dear Ones.
THE scatter'd straws from richer cargoes strown,
I've gather'd up and treasured as my own:
Yet to no robbery do I confess,
My gleanings make no shining store the less:
Free as the vivifying light and air,
Thought circulates, and each may take a share;
Immortal truth from age to age will run,
But “There is nothing new beneath the sun.”
On entering now upon my ninetieth year,
The daylight fading and the harbour near,
With deprecating hand my sheaf I bind
For gentle eyes that seek not flaws to find.
To some responsive mind it may appeal,
To some fond hearts a mother's love reveal:
Pleased would she be should any chance to meet
Among the fragments one good grain of wheat.
E. M. BARTON.