To My Mother
(January 1, 1891)
Sweet Mother! rare in gifts of tenderness!
Thou who didst nurse my child-life into bloom,
And for each native grace made ample room
To blossom in love's light,—how can we bless
The Power that gave thee to us! In the stress
Of life's great conflict, what could e'er illume
Its mystic shadows and its deepest gloom,
Like smiles and loving words from thee! No less
Than widest sunshine is thy sympathy.
O precious Heart! so rich in sacrifice,
And—boon beyond compare—supremest love,
May Heaven's choicest blessings rest on thee,
Rarer than jewels of the costliest price!
And Peace brood o'er thy path like calmest dove!
Sweet Mother! rare in gifts of tenderness!
Thou who didst nurse my child-life into bloom,
And for each native grace made ample room
To blossom in love's light,—how can we bless
The Power that gave thee to us! In the stress
Of life's great conflict, what could e'er illume
Its mystic shadows and its deepest gloom,
Like smiles and loving words from thee! No less
Than widest sunshine is thy sympathy.
O precious Heart! so rich in sacrifice,
And—boon beyond compare—supremest love,
May Heaven's choicest blessings rest on thee,
Rarer than jewels of the costliest price!
And Peace brood o'er thy path like calmest dove!
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