My Mother Dear
There was a place in childhood that I remember well,
And there a voice of sweetest tone bright fairy tales did tell,
And gentle words and fond embrace, were given with joy to me,
when I was in that happy place upon my mother’s knee.
When fairy tales were ended, “Good night,” she softly said,
And kissed, and laid me down to sleep, within my tiny bed,
And holy words she taught me then–methinks I yet can see
Her angel eyes, as close I knelt beside my mother’s knee.
In the sickness of my childhood, the perils of my prime,
The sorrows of my riper years, the cares of ev’ry time,
When doubt and danger weighed me down, then pleading all for me,
It was a fervent prayer to Heaven that bent my mother’s knee.
Published in Golden Thoughts on Mother, Home and Heaven, 1881