'Your life was hard with mangling clothes,
You scrubbed our floors for years;
But now, your children are so good,
That you can rest your poor old limbs,
And want for neither drink nor meat.'
'It's true,' she said, and laughed for joy;
And still her voice, with all her years,
Could make a song-bird wonder if
A rival sweetness challenged him.
But soon her face was full of trouble:
'If I could only tear.' she said,
'My sister Alice out of her grave -
Who taunted me when I was poor -
And make her understand these words :
"See, I have everything I want,
My children, Alice, are so good" -
If I could only once do that,
There's nothing else I want on earth.'