Into my mother's ear I breathed my plans With careful words. The university Was but a short remove--a morning's walk-- Away from her; and ever at her wish-- Nay, always when I could--I would return; And separation would but sweeten love, And joy of meeting recompense the pain Of parting and of absence. She was calm And leaning in her thought upon her friend. Gave her consent. So, on a summer day, I kissed her faded cheek, and turned from home To seek the college halls that I had seen From boyhood's mount of vision. Of the years Passed there in study--of the rivalries, The long, stern struggles for pre-eminence, The triumphs hardly won, but won at last Beyond all cavil, matters not to tell. It was my grief that while I gained and grew, My mother languished momently, and lost,-- A grief that turned to poison in my blood. The college prayers were mummeries to me, And with disdainful passion I repelled All Christian questionings of heart and life, By old and young. I stood, I moved alone. I sought no favors, took no courtesies With grateful grace, and nursed my haughty pride. The men who kneeled and gloomed, and prayed and sang, Seemed but a brood of dullards, whom contempt Would honor overmuch. No tender spot Was left within my indurated heart, Save that which moved with ever-melting ruth For her whose breast had nursed me, and whose love Had given my life the only happiness It yet had known. With her I kept my pledge With more than faithful punctuality. Few weeks passed by in all those busy years In which I did not walk the way between The college and my home, and bear to her Such consolation as my presence gave. In truth, my form was as familiar grown To all the rustic dwellers on the road As I had been a post-boy. Little joy These visits won for me--little beyond That which I found in bearing joy to her-- For every year marked on her slender frames And on her cheeks, and on her failing brain, Its record of decadence. I could see That she was sinking into helplessness, And that too soon her inoffensive soul, With all its sweet affections, would go down To hopeless wreck and darkness. From her friend I learned that still the burden of her prayer Was, that she might be saved from one great sin-- The sin of self-destruction. Every hour This one petition struggled from her heart, To reach the ear of heaven; yet never help Came down in answer to her cry.