From Eliza Wyman (Porter) Sweet (1807-1881) to her son, Andrew Jackson Sweet (1837-1892), lamenting that, at age 17, he has left home to roam. [Transcription below.]

To Andrew J Sweet

Dear Son thou wast my hearts delight
The morn of life was gay and cheerly
That morn has rushed to sudden night
Without thee thy fathers house is dreary

I held thee on my knee dear son
And kisst thee ore and oer again
But ah thy little day of love is done
Thou art thy own man roaming

Dear lovely son thou art gone
From loveing friends and mother
Thy youthful love and manly form
Will dwell with us forever

But if we never meet again
While here on earth we roam
O may we meet in that bright realm
Where darksome nights can never come

I ask a boon of thee dear son
Say will thee grant it to thy mother
It is to seek that heavenly friend
That sticketh closer than a brother

In heaven dear son lay up thy treasure
Where moth and rust can never blight
That when thy time on earth is measured
Thou will dwell in glory bright

Dec 19th 1854 Eliza Sweet

Andrew J. Sweet was my great-great grandfather. His daughter, Goldie Sweet, was my great-grandmother, and I knew her well; she died at my parents’ house in Farmington, Maine, when I was 18 and a senior in high school. Eliza Wyman (Porter) Sweet was Andrew’s mother. The original copy of this poem is in my collection of family documents.