Amanda Lowman Bartholomew.
A simple parsonage__plain and brown__
Where ivies rambled up and down
With sweet-brier roses.
A place the earliest sunbeams kissed,
Nor left till shadowed by the mist
The night uncloses.
'Twas here she wrought, with patient care
A life whose incense filled the air
With gladness only;
Here heard her call to enter rest,
And left the home a broken nest,
Bereft and lonely.
To children's hearts, and hearts grown strong
With anguish, 'tis a lesson long,
And sad the learning: