Because I feel that, in the heavens above, the angels, whispering to one another, can
find, among their burning terms of love, none so devotional as that of Mother.
Therefore, by that dear name, I long have called you, you who are more than Mother unto
me, and fill my heart of hearts, where death installed you, in setting my virginia's spirit
free.
My mother, my own mother, who died early, was but the mother of myself, but you, are
mother to the one I love so dearly, and thus are dearer than the mother I knew, by that
infinity with which my wife, was dearer to my soul than its soul-life, because I feel
that, in the heavens above, the angels, whispering to one another, can find, among their burning
terms of love, none so devotional as that of Mother.
Therefore, by that dear name, I long have called you, you who are more than Mother unto
me, and fill my heart of hearts, where death installed you, in setting my virginia's spirit
free.
My mother, my own mother, who died early, was but the mother of myself, but you, are
mother to the one I love so dearly, and thus are dearer than the mother I knew, by that
infinity with which my wife, was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.