If e'er for human bliss or woe
I feel the sympathetic glow;
If e'er my heart has learn'd to know
The gen'rous wish or pray'r;
Who sow'd the germ, with tender hand?
Who mark'd its infant leaves expand?
My mother's fostering care.
And if one flower of charms refined
May grace the garden of my mind,
'Twas she who nursed it there:
She loved to cherish and adorn
Each blossom of the soil;
To banish every weed and thorn
That oft opposed her toil!
And, oh, if e'er I sighed to claim
The palm, the living palm of fame,
The glowing wreath of praise;
If e'er I've wish'd the glitt'ring stores
That fortune on her fav'rite pours;
'Twas but that wealth and fame, if mine,
Round thee with streaming rays might shine
And gild thy sun-bright days!
~ Felicia Hemans
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