MOTHERS

Through the vigils deep of the sable night

A mother sits in grief alone,

For her sons have gone to the battle front

And left on the hearth a crushing stone.

Beyond the stars that burn at night

She sees God's arm in pity reach;

It counsels patience, love and faith,

Heroic hearts and souls to teach.

The blue is spann'd and the tide goes out.

And the stars rain down a kindlier cheer;

And the mother turns from this throne of grief

To pierce the years with a joyous tear;

For duty born of a mother's heart

Fills all the rounds of our common day —

Yea, sheds its joy in the darkest night,

And fills with light each hidden way.