LESSON 28 WHERE’S MOTHER?

WHERE’S MOTHER?

BURSTING in from School or play,

This is what the children say,

Trooping, crowding, big and small

On the threshold [1] , in the hall—

Joining in the constant cry,

Ever as the days go by—

“Where’s Mother?”

From the weary bed of pain

This same question comes again:

From the boy, with sparkling eyes,

Bearing home his earliest prize;

From the bronzed [2] and bearded son,

Perils past, and honours won;

“Where’s Mother?”

Burdened with a lonely task,

One day we may vainly ask

For the comfort of her face,

For the rest of her embrace

Let us love her while we may!

Well for us that we can say,

“Where’s Mother?”

Mother, with untiring hands,

At the post of duty stands,

Patient, seeking not her own [3] ,

Anxious for the good alone

Of the children as they cry,

Ever, as the days go by,

“Where’s Mother?”

—J. R. EASTWOOD , in Fireside Poems

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[1] threshold: The flooring in a doorway.

[2] bronzed: Sunburnt; tanned.

[3] seeking not her own: Unselfish.