You talked of fame,—but my
thoughts would stray
To the brook that laughed
across the lane;
And of hopes for me,—but your
hand’s light play
On my brow was ice to my shrinking
brain;
And you called me your son, your only
son,—
But I felt your eye on my
tortured heart
To and fro, like a spider, run,
On a quivering web;—’twas
a cruel art!
But crueller, crueller far, the art
Of the low, quick laugh that
Memory hears!
Mother, I lay my head on your heart;
Has it throbbed even once
these fifty years?
Throbbed even once, by some strange heat
thawed?
It would then have warmed
to her, poor thing,
Who echoed your laugh with a cry!—O
God,
When in my soul will it cease
to ring?
Starlike her eyes were,—but
yours were blind;
Sweet her red lips,—but
yours were curled;
Pure her young heart,—but yours,—ah,
you find
This, mother, is not the only
world!
She came,—bright gleam of the
dawning day;
She went,—pale
dream of the winding-sheet.
Mother, they come to me and say
Your headstone will almost
touch her feet!
You are walking now in a strange, dim
land:
Tell me, has pride gone with
you there?
Does a frail white form before you stand,
And tremble to earth, beneath
your stare?
No, no!—she is strong in her
pureness now,
And Love to Power no more
defers.
I fear the roses will never grow
On your lonely grave as they
do on hers!
But now from those lips one last, sad
touch,—
Kiss it is not, and has never
been;
In my boyhood’s sleep I dreamed
of such,
And shuddered,—they
were so cold and thin!
There,—now cover the cold,
white face,
Whiter and colder than statue
stone!
Mother, you have a resting-place;
But I am weary, and all alone!
AARON BURR.[A]
[Footnote A: The Life and Times of Aaron Burr. By J. PARTON. New York: Mason, Brothers. 1857.]
The life of Aaron Burr is an admirable subject for a biographer. He belonged to a class of men, rare in America, who are remarkable, not so much for their talents or their achievements, as for their adventures and the vicissitudes of their fortunes. Europe has produced many such men and women: political intriguers; royal favorites; adroit courtiers; adventurers who carried their swords into every scene of danger; courtesans who controlled the affairs of states; persevering schemers who haunted the purlieus of courts, plotted treason in garrets, and levied war in fine ladies’ boudoirs.