"Mother, Will You Pray"
Dublin Core
Title
"Mother, Will You Pray"
Description
A truly affecting and instructive incident, which can hardly fail to come home to one's bosom with salutary force.
"Mother," said a little sick son, about four years of age, "will you pray? - I can't say 'Our Father' now."
----
Pray, mother, pray, for my failing tongue
Forms not the words that erst on it hung;
But quick, as yet, is my willing ear
The music-voice of prayer to hear.
I cannot say "Our Father," now,
But I feel His name upon my brow,
As with your warm lips moving there,
You breathe the words of that holy prayer.
And now, dear mother, repeat once more
What you have told me oft before
How, in the path that Hannah trod,
You bore me up to the house of God -
And with like faith how you gave away
Me, your fist-born, that I might stay
A servant unto God, forever -
And how your heart has faltered never.
Mother, sweet mother! closer fold
Your arms around me - and closer hold
My hand in yours - for I would be
Close, in this dying hour, to thee.
For well I know the "Reaper" has come;
And how sad you will be when his work is done!
Tears, my mother! oh do not weep,
But press to my lips your pale, sad cheek;
And once more around your dear neck lay
My arm, while its young strength ebbs away.
You taught me to look with a steadfast eye
Toward the mansions His love hath prepared on high;
You taught me to kneel, and with wrestling prayer,
Plead for a home with the blessed, there!
And I have knelt at your side, till faith
Is strong to meet the Conquerer, Death,
Oh weep no more - but lift your eyes!
See! the opening gates of Paradise!
And look! oh mother! they come! they come!
That angel band to guide me home! -
How fast they fade, earth's last dim rays!
Oh, pray no more - but praise! praise! praise!
"Mother," said a little sick son, about four years of age, "will you pray? - I can't say 'Our Father' now."
----
Pray, mother, pray, for my failing tongue
Forms not the words that erst on it hung;
But quick, as yet, is my willing ear
The music-voice of prayer to hear.
I cannot say "Our Father," now,
But I feel His name upon my brow,
As with your warm lips moving there,
You breathe the words of that holy prayer.
And now, dear mother, repeat once more
What you have told me oft before
How, in the path that Hannah trod,
You bore me up to the house of God -
And with like faith how you gave away
Me, your fist-born, that I might stay
A servant unto God, forever -
And how your heart has faltered never.
Mother, sweet mother! closer fold
Your arms around me - and closer hold
My hand in yours - for I would be
Close, in this dying hour, to thee.
For well I know the "Reaper" has come;
And how sad you will be when his work is done!
Tears, my mother! oh do not weep,
But press to my lips your pale, sad cheek;
And once more around your dear neck lay
My arm, while its young strength ebbs away.
You taught me to look with a steadfast eye
Toward the mansions His love hath prepared on high;
You taught me to kneel, and with wrestling prayer,
Plead for a home with the blessed, there!
And I have knelt at your side, till faith
Is strong to meet the Conquerer, Death,
Oh weep no more - but lift your eyes!
See! the opening gates of Paradise!
And look! oh mother! they come! they come!
That angel band to guide me home! -
How fast they fade, earth's last dim rays!
Oh, pray no more - but praise! praise! praise!
Creator
A Mother
Source
New Series 2:34, p. 136
Date
1841.10.30
Contributor
From the Christian Mirror
Collection
Citation
A Mother, “"Mother, Will You Pray",” Periodical Poets, accessed September 7, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/444.
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