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O mother, sweet mother, the spirit.
Confided this day to your care
Is a diamond your hand must make ready
To shine 'mong His jewels so fair.
The wee little hands must be guarded,
The sweet tender heart must be fed.
The dear little feet of your darling
To the still, quiet waters be led.
Confided this day to your care
Is a diamond your hand must make ready
To shine 'mong His jewels so fair.
The wee little hands must be guarded,
The sweet tender heart must be fed.
The dear little feet of your darling
To the still, quiet waters be led.
She's a tiny wee bit of a maiden,
No flower more fragile or sweet.
Still she binds every heart in her fetters,
And brings you, like slaves, to her feet,
With the love of the father and mother.
Her wealth, all around her displayed;
With the smile of the angels upon her,
How blest is the dear little maid.
No flower more fragile or sweet.
Still she binds every heart in her fetters,
And brings you, like slaves, to her feet,
With the love of the father and mother.
Her wealth, all around her displayed;
With the smile of the angels upon her,
How blest is the dear little maid.
