"The Old Arm Chair" (25 Oct 1842)
A Ballad
by
Eliza [Elizabeth] Cook, 1818-1889 [1838]
set to MUSIC by the
publisher

Baltimore: published & sold by
S[amuel] Carusi.
Lithographed by E. Webert & Co., Baltimore
Engraver: L. W. Webb
[Source: microfilm copy at LoC]

1. I love it, I love it, and who shall dare, 
To chide me for loving that old arm chair, 
I’ve treasur’d it long as a holy prize, 
I’ve bedew’d it with tears, and embalm’d it with sighs; 
’Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart. 
Not a tie will break, not a link will start; 
Would ye learn the spell, a mother sat there, 
And a sacred thing is that old arm chari. 

2. I sat and watch’d her many a day, 
When her eye grew dim, and her locks were grey; 
And I almost worship’d her when she smil’d 
And turn’d from her bible to bless her child. 
Years roll’d on, but the last one sped. 
My idol was shattered, my earthstar fled; 
I learn’d how much the heart can bear, 
When I saw her die in that old arm chair.

3. ’Tis past! tis past! but I gaze on it now, 
With quivering breath, and throbbing brow; 
’Twas there  she nursed me, ’Twas there she died; 
And memory flows with lava tide. 
Say it is folly, and deem me weak, 
While the scalding drops start down my cheek; 
But I love it, I love it, and cannot tear 
My soul from a mother’s old arm chair.