Van Tassel Memory Page

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"A Pedigree Partly Indian, Partly Batavian"


The Van Tassel Memory Page


Manerva Miller Van Tassel (1845-1925)


[ Mother ]

There by the front porch balustrade of my old home,

I saw my dear, sweet mother, an angels form.

The silvery threads lie smoothly upon her charming head,

Those sad, sweet eyes have won for her a legionare of friends,

Old Aunt Mary's shawl loosely draped

from shoulders just a little bent,

Her hands in benediction held, A celestial smile upon her lips.


Oh ' Mother, how came you there to stand,

So like an angel of peace and mercy, hope and love,

So like a spirit of all that is good.

Me thought at first a heavenly light had dropped around you,

But me thinks and now I know, that those who possess

both loving kindness and gentle grace,

Radiates this priceless heritage where ere they go.


If you needs must step from that great portico,- Mother,

Sir, Walter Raleigh shall come, stoop upon his knees

and spread his silk plush coat for you to walk up on.

And the trumpets and bells shall send forth their peals of joy,

While behold' -- all heads are bare,

As the lovely queen passes this way.


In younger years a gentle wife,

The brightest jewel of a good man's life,

Now the greatest hope in the world,

To a noble family of boys and girls.

That thru years of care and vicissitudes,

You always conquered wrong for good,

And reared us all to strength and health,

And taught us not to live by stealth,

But on the side of truth to stand

And give the best our brain and hand,

can bestow upon our fellow men.


You have reared a loyal family,

twelve noble children right and true,

They would not stoop to low endeavors,

Your true sweet love has taught them to

be for ever on an errand of truth and mercy or gratitude.


Tho your cares were leaden heavy,

Mortal frame oftimes weary

from ceaseless toil for others given,

They seem to fade into illusion,

when you take them to your bosom,

And all the trials unemployed, Armies of vicissitude,

Tho in serried ranks arrayed,

Could not take the Citadel,

Of your love and fortitude.


Now the sun is calmly setting,

and a hallowed light from heaven,

hath about thee gently fallen,

And your face with tranquil beauty,

sprays out light of supreme honor,

to the duties of a mother,

You have filled them all with splendor,

And your name is now immortal.


And we can see you there a standing,

Where our memory often lingers,

on our old home portico, by that great balustrade,

And a light troops down from heaven,

And enfolds you  in elysium,

All transfigured all transcendent,

Like sparkling rays of the rising sol,

or the great wide gold bar of the lonesome west.

Ah ' live on our darling mother,

Still live and teach us what is best.


  


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