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OTHER, dear Mother, as the day passeth by I dwell on life's scenes with a tear and a sigh Which I cannot refrain when I think of the love You had for your children. Now dwelling above May recall many scenes through life's valley fair, Though often made gloomy through sorrow and care. But your grace was sufficient all trials are passed And a crown is the prize of the faithful at last. Thou wert willing, dear Mother, to sacrifice all For the comfort of others, till Death Angel's call To summon you home, to enjoy the rest Prepared for the faithful, the pure and the bleat; Still mindful, we know, of the ones left behind Who remember our mother as one ever kind, And while we are strewing with flowers your grave, We likewise remember the Mighty to save. Can it be that to-day as we look far ahead 'Neath the rainbow of hope, with our dear mother dead, That no more can we meet, we have met for the last Till has fallen life's curtain; its trials are passed, Then to meet as we've met, then to reap as we've sown And there know each other as here we are known, Then to look on the past with no tears or a sigh, Nor think of a final or parting good-by. Although we are sad and can never forget, Your life of sweet sunshine still follows us yet. We aim, "as requested," to follow the way Which lessens the darkness and brightens the day, And follow examples through life freely given By a dear Christian mother in the sweet fold of Heaven. While we think of the body, cold under the sod, We know that her spirit is resting with God. We bade you good-by, and received the last kiss From the lips of a mother we always shall miss; We were pained at the parting, but still we will love Your memory sacred while here--yet above, Where time is not reckoned by years on a scroll, But the substance of life is the pearl of the soul, The nectar of blossoms, the sweetness of spring, May be found in the fruit which the autumn will bring. Being sure you are safe and more happy than we, Cannot ask for you back, though lonely we be, Though solemn, dear Mother, yet happy to know That the future will bring, what through life we may sow, And to look o'er your life, to us as a day As a flower, was with us and then passed away: Through the breakers of death thou didst pass as dry-shod To the Home of the Savior, the Kingdom of God. |
