A Mother.

There’s music in a mother’s voice,1
More sweet than breezes sighing2
There’s kindness in a mother’s glance,3
Too pure for ever dying.4
There’s love within a mother’s breast,5
So deep, ’tis still o’erflowing,6
And care for those she calls her own,7
That’s ever, ever growing.8
There’s anguish in a mother’s tear9
When farewell fondly taking,10
That so the heart of pity moves,11
It scarcely keeps from breaking.12
And when a mother kneels to Heaven,13
And for her child is praying,14
Oh, who can half the fervour tell,15
That burns in all she’s saying ?16
A mother ! how her tender arts17
Can soothe the breast of sadness,18
And through the gloom of life once more19
Bid shine the sun of gladness.20
A mother ! when, like evening’s star,21
Her course has ceased before us,22
From brighter worlds regards us still,23
And watches fondly o’er us.24