Arm Chair
I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, AND WHO SHALL DARE
TO CHIDE ME FOR LOVING
THAT OLD ARM CHAIR,
I'VE TREASURED IT LONG
AS A SAINTED PRIZE,
I'VE BEDEW'D IT WITH TEARS,
AND EMBALM'D IT WITH SIGHS,
TIS BOUND BY A THOUSAND
BANDS OF MY HEART:
NOT A TIE WILL BREAK,
NOT A LINK WILL START,
WOULD YE LEARN THE SPELL:
A MOTHER SAT THERE,
AND A SACRED THING
IS THAT OLD ARM CHAIR.
image of upright arm chair
in which there is a Holy Bible
resting on one arm
I SAT AND WATCH'D HER MANY A DAY
WHEN HER EYE GREW DIM,
AND HER LOCKS WERE GREY:
AND I AMOST WORSHIPP'D HER
WHEN SHE SMILED,
AND TURN'D FROM HER BIBLE
TO BLESS HER CHILD.
YEARS ROLL'D ON, BUT THE LAST ONE SPED
MY IDOL WAS SHATTER'D
MY EARTH STAR FLED;
I LEAR'NT HOW MUCH THE HEART CAN BEAR,
WHEN I SAW HER DIE
IN THAT OLD ARM CHAIR.
TIS PAST: TIS PAST! BUT I GAZE ON IT NOW
WITH QUIVERING BREATH
AND THROBBING BROW
'TWAS THERE SHE NURSED ME
'TWAS THERE SHE DIED
AND MEM'RY FLOW WITH LAVA TIDE
SAY IT IS FOLLY, AND DEEM ME WEAK,
WHILE THE SCALDING DROPS
START DOWN MY CHEEK;
BUT I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT,
AND CANNOT TEAR
MY SOUL FROM MY MOTHER'S
OLD ARM CHAIR.
ELIZA COOK
