MY MOTHER'S SONG
THERE'S melody in every land,
Sweet songs from foreign clime,
Yet loved the most, above them all,
My mother dear, are thine.
The memory of childhood's days
Recalls sweet songs to me;
The songs we sung when all at home,
Beneath the old roof-tree.
And shall I e'er forget the song,
The choicest one to me?
The song of love that first I heard
Upon my mother's knee?
She sang of Heaven of Jesus there,
Of saints in God's employ,
Of holy angels' watchful care,
Who'd guard her darling boy.
And as she'd sing, she'd press my head
Close to her heart so true;
Oh! then, it always seemed to me,
She was an angel, too.
My mother's voice I'll ne'er forget,
That voice so sweet to me
The song of love that first I heard
Upon my mother's knee.
And now, tho' all these days have fled,
These many, many years,
That song recalls my mother's voice,
And fills my eyes with tears.
Oh! should I, when my time is done,
To Heaven's bright home attain,
I know I'll meet my mother there,
And hear that voice again.
Till then, I'll ne'er forget the song
The choicest one to me
The song of love that first I heard
Upon my mother's knee.
S. L. Cuthbert