Poems (Barker)/To My Mother
For works with similar titles, see To My Mother.
To My Mother.
Dear Mother 'tis a little gift— This simple verse of mine,But there's a memory in each word, And love in every lineSweet Mother, on your birthday morn, No costly gifts I bring,But love and tenderness untold Go with these words I sing.
Fond Mother, every year for you With brightness I would fill,That all life's clouds might pass away, And leave the sunshine still.I'd call the brooklet from its course To babble at your feet,And all earth's fairest, brightest flowers To shed their perfume sweet.
Loved Mother, if the path was hard, I'd pray that angel handsMight smooth the way, and gently guide, And cool the burning sands.Kind mother 'tis a daughter's wish, A daughter's prayer for you,Whose constant sweet self-sacrifice, Shines all your lifeway through.
Oh! patient Mother—Mother true, If treasures I could bring,They could not carry half the love, These simple lines will sing.They could not tell of patient faith, Through all my life's glad years,They could not breath a Mother's prayer, Nor count a Mother's tears.
God bless you Mother, take the gift, 'Tis all I have to give,But with it go my love and prayers So long as I shall live.Earth's fairest, brightest, purest, best, May Heaven on you bestow;Until you reach a better home, Than aught we find below.