A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields/The Mother's Birthday (Anonymous)
THE MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY.
ANONYMOUS.
Thou so good, O thou so perfect,
Who lovest us with so much love,
With joy we hail thy birthday, Mother,
Day all other days above.
In exchange of all our presents,
Of our songs composed for thee,
Of our field-flowers and our roses,
Give us kisses tenderly.
For thee, each day, O darling mother,
We lift our voices to the Lord;
But in prayer for thee this morning,
More fervently have we adored.
God will hear it; on thy pathway,
He will such rich blessings spread,
So much calm, O mother cherished,
That thou tears shalt never shed.
Then, to please thee, in our duties,
We shall try to do our best,
Never lift our heads while praying
Just before we go to rest.
Never make a noise or tumult,
When thou bidd'st us quiet be,
And the loudest shall be silent
At a single sign from thee.
Embrace us then, O dearest mother,
Press us well upon thy heart,
Our place accustomed, now and ever,
In joys, and when those joys depart,
Oh, what is there so good or precious
As a gentle mother's love?
On this earth, the only treasure
Sent us from the heavens above.