  Dear patient face and placid brow, Dear lips that smiled despite of pain, Brave toil-worn hands, so helpful now, Sweet spirit free from earthly stain. Within the doorway Mother stands, The while a merry barefoot lad, Across the springtime meadow-lands Goes whistling schoolward, blithe and glad; And where the pathway breasts the hill, I stay my steps and turn to hear Her loving voice, as lingering still, She calls, "Good-bye! God bless you, dear." Dear patient face and furrowed brow, Dear lips that smile thro' all life's pain, Brave toil-worn hands, so weary now, Sweet soul unmarred by earthly stain. Within the doorway Mother stands, The while a man oppressed with care, Goes toil-ward, fain to strive and bear; And where the pathway breasts the hill, I stay my steps and turn to hear Her trembling voice, as ling'ring still, She calls, "Good-bye! God bless you, dear." Dear peaceful face and placid brow, Dear lips that smile secure from pain, Brave toil-worn hands, soft-folded now, Sweet spirit freed from earthly stain. Within God's portal Mother stands, The while a man forspent with care Seeketh the far-off meadow-lands, By faith made strong to strive and bear. And as I breast life's weary hill, I ofttimes pause—meseems I hear The well-loved accents breathing still The old fond prayer, "God bless you, dear." |
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