Mother-love


"AR-G-O-O, ar-g-o-o," is the song of songs,

To the loving mother's ear;

"Ar-g-o-o, ar-g-o-o," these baby notes

Fill all the house with cheer.



The baby's laugh, the baby's coo.

The baby's every move,

Is music, joy, and grace to her,

Who is rich in mother-love.







The precious pearl that is first unlocked

By Nature's mystic key,

From out the baby's jewel-box,

Makes mamma's jubilee.



The day of baby's mastership

To raise himself upright,

An era marks along the way,

By mother-love made light.



Her mother-voice lures on his step,

Her care protects from harm;

While deeper into her heart he glides,

With every opening charm.



And when he "ma-ma" sweetly says,

Or "pa-pa," in her breast

His throne is fixed forevermore,

This prince of babes confessed.



When threads of thought begin to spin,

And webs of mind to weave,

When kindling soul looks out at eyes

That know not to deceive,--



The mother's holiest task to keep

Her darling pure and true;

Her constant care, her watchful prayer,

Alone can guide him through







The maze his youthful feet must tread,

And if perchance he fall,

Her baby still in him she sees,

Her love can cover it all.



O, the wondrous love the baby brings,

Is far beyond our ken!

We only know that the fount once oped,

Can never be dry again.





* * * * *



More

;