Upon a Three-Leg Stool sat she,
An Autumn Day,
Darning strong grey socks for me,
A Mothers' way.
Where the Ember glow was bright,
Back and fourth,
Up and down as evening light
Fades from the hearth.
Deep in shadow stood a churn,
With dripping dash,
Pots and Pans at every turn
With soup and hash.
An Out-Shot Bed near the Thatch,
With Curtain Screen,
A rusty worn and creaking latch,
All painted green.
Home dear Home, A mother weeping
For children gone,
Into the world's cruel keeping,
My Sad Song.
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