IN MOTHER'S ROOM

In Mother's room still stands the chair

Beside the sunny window, where

The flowers she loved now lightly stir

In April's breeze, as though they were

Forlorn without her loving care.

Her books, her work-box, all are there,

And still the snowy curtains bear

The soft, sweet scent of lavender

In Mother's room.

Oh, spot so cool, and fresh, and fair,

Where dwelt a soul so pure and rare,

On me your fragrant peace confer,

Make my life sweet with thoughts of her,

As lavender makes sweet the air

In Mother's room.