BOYS OF THE BIBLE. 187

a very great poet, but he has written much that will be
remembered as long as poetry sways any influence on the
human mind. Cowper’s mother died when he was a child,
and when the poet had grown to middle life, a cousin of his
—Ann Bodham by name—sent him a portrait of his mother.
_ The poem Cowper wrote on the receipt of his mother’s picture
is one of the most beautiful poems that came from his busy
pen. Every boy should read and study that poem. We have
only space for just a few lines. They, however, will probably
be quite sufficient to inspire boys who love their mothers to
read the whole poem. Gazing on the faithful portrait of his
sainted mother, Cowper says:

O that those lips had language! Life has passed
With me but roughly since I heard thee last.
Those lips are thine—thy own sweet smile I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me;
Voice only fails, else how distinct they say,
“Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!’
The meek intelligence of those dear eyes—
Blest be the art that can immortalize;

The art that baffles time’s tyrannic claim

To quench it—here shines on me still the same.
* * * *

My mother! When I learned that thou wast dead
Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed?
Hovered thy spirit o’er thy sorrowing son,

Wretch even then, life’s journey just begun.
Perhaps thou gavest me, though unfelt, a kiss;
Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss—

Ah, that maternal smile it answers—Yes.
* * * Es

Where thou art gone,
Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore,

The parting word shall pass my lips no more.
* * * *

My boast is not that I deduce my birth

From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth;
But higher far my proud pretensions rise—
The son ot parents pass’d into the skies ”