A QUESTION. 235
Don t you remember how she stood
With wistful glance at parting ?
Don t you remember how the tears
Were in her soft eyes starting ?
Have you forgotten how her arm
Stole round you to caress you ? Have you forgotten those low words,
" Good-bye, my son ; God bless you !"
Have evil words dulled honest truth?
Does homely love seem idle ? And playbills lie quite undisturbed
Above the little Bible,
Until you have no heart to write,
Can tell no pleasant story Of steadfast feet that keep the way
That leads at last to glory ?
Oh, do not wrong her patient love ;
Save God s, there is no other So faithful through all mists of sin
Fear not to write to mother.
Tell her how hard it is to walk
As walked the Master lowly ; Tell her how hard it is to keep
A man s life pure and holy.
Tell her to keep the lamp of prayer Alight a beacon burning,
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