Mothers

Mothers Happy young mothers who kiss and caress Your babes with a love that no others can know, And dream of their futures and slave for and bless With sainted affection no others can show; Because you have suffered as all mothers do, And face the stern struggles all mothers must face, With sorrows and worries and trials to go through, We hail you, exalted to motherhood's place. Tired, care-worn mothers who patiently strive For families of children, dependent and small, And sacrifice all that your darlings may thrive, Obedient servants to each childish call; Since through loving kindness you guide and inspire The men of tomorrow to give us their best, And live but for them, without selfish desire, We greet you as heroines, honored and blest. Middle-aged mothers whose hearts beat with pride At wonderful changes in daughters and sons; And gaze at the beauty and youth at your side, And marvel at what all your struggles have done; May years still before you give comfort and peace, And each child's success be a triumph for you, May those whom you reared make your glory increase By honors they show and the course they pursue. Happy old mothers whose lives are made bright By loved ones, so thankful and thoughtful and kind, That giving you joy is their greatest delight, And doing you honor upmost in their mind; But try as they may they can never repay The great debt they owe for your service and love, May laughter and sunshine make happy your way, Till just reward comes in the mansion above. Lonesome old mothers, all wrinkled and worn By struggles of life, with its flame burning low, Whose wasted old forms tell of great burdens borne, In care-laden ways you were called on to go; Though you are forgotten by those who should care, And heedless the multitude passes along, A God dwells in heaven who sees everywhere, And we praise and cheer you with this little song. Broken old mothers, in torture of soul At shame of a daughter or son in disgrace, But loving them still with a love past control, In spite of the scoffs and the scorn you must face; Inasmuch as love conquers both pride and shame, And shines until no sin can tarnish its glow, The conduct of offspring cannot harm your name; We greet you with all the dear mothers we know.

640 IMPROVEMENT ERA Lone, weeping mothers who know the sad day When flesh of your flesh slumbers silent and cold, And angels escort the loved spirit away, While you fight the battle of anguish untold; Because you have poured out your hard grief in tears, And conquered and hopefully face life anew, With holier love as you go through the years, We offer this tribute in honor of you. Mothers in heaven whose pure love descends Like God's choicest blessings to comfort and guide The foot steps of loved ones who lost their best friends, When, worn for their welfare, you suffered and died; As beautiful Angels who lighten each care, We picture you high in the heavenly throng, Awaiting to greet us and welcome us there; In your sacred memory sing we this song. Angelic mothers from everywhere, Whatever the station and fortune you claim, Be famed or unknown, full of joy or despair, All mothers are darlings, to honor the same; And no other title can mortal one bear So sacred, so precious, and worthy of fame, Or earned by more struggle and prayer and care; All honor to Mother, and hallowed the name. McCammon, Idaho A. Ira Cox Reverie Sitting* by my open window, At the close of weary day, There I watch the changing shadows Stealing o'er the darkening bay; And my heart with restless longings, Eyes grown dim with falling tears, Joy doth find in contemplation, Peace, in silent though! and prayers. At this hour of wondrous twilight, When the shadows dimly fall, Toils of day are all forgotten, Peace reigns sweetly over all; And I think of God's creation, Of His glorious gospel plan, Of the chance for sure salvation, Open wide to every man. Rest thee, 0 my soul, in thinking: Do thy work from day to day, Work that is required by Father, Work that meets you on your way. Put aside those restless longings, Strive to reach the sought-for goal, God will add all needed blessings, That shall satisfy your soul. Bristol, England Hester Neal