General

The Black Mother

Garvey, Marcus
Where can I find love that never
changes
Smiles that are true and always just
the same,
Caring not how the fierce tempest
rages,
Willing ever to shield my honored name?
This I find at home, only with
Mother,
Who cares for me with patient
tenderness;
She from every human pain would
rather
Save me, and drink the dregs of
bitterness.
If on life’s way I happen to flounder,
My true thoughts should be of Mother
dear,
She is the rock that ne’er rifts asunder,
The cry of her child, be it far or
near.
This is love wonderful beyond
compare;
It is God’s choicest gift to mortal
man;
You, who know Mother, in this thought
must share,
For, she, of all, is Angel of your
Clan.
My Mother is black, loveliest of all;
Yes, she is as pure as the new made
morn;
Her song of glee is a clear rythmic
call
To these arms of love to which I was
born.
I shall never forget you, sweet
Mother,
Where’er in life I may happen to
roam;
Thou shalt always be the Fairy
Charmer

To turn my dearest thoughts to things at home.