A MOTHER'S BIBLE.

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A pathetic incident occurred some years ago in connection with one of our
wars abroad. A youth who had been wounded, and who died in the field
hospital, clutched in his last hours an old worn copy of the Bible, on the flyleaf
of which were inscribed these touching lines:—

TO MY BOY.

Remember, love, who gave you this,
When other days shall come,
When she who had thy earliest kiss
Sleeps in her narrow home.
Remember! 'twas a mother gave
The gift to one she'd die to save.
A mother sought a pledge of love,
The holiest, for her son;
And from the gift of God above
She chose a godly one—
She chose for her beloved boy
The source of light and life and joy.
And bade him keep the gift, that when
The parting hour should come
They might have hope, and meet again
In an eternal home:
She said his faith in that should be
Sweet incense to her memory.
And should the scoffer in his pride
Laugh his fond faith to scorn,
And bid him cast the pledge aside
Which he from youth had borne—
She bade him pause and ask his breast
If he or she had loved him best.
A mother's blessing on her son
Goes with this holy thing,
The love that would retain the one
Must to the other cling.
Remember! 'tis no idle toy,
Thy mother's gift! Remember, boy!

Roger
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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