The Quiet Home.
Oh, mothers, worn and weary, j Witb cares which never ceuse, With never time for pleasure, With days that have no peace, With little hands to hinder And feeble stops to guard, With tasks that lie unfinished, Deem not your lot too hard. I know a house where childish things Are hidden out of sight; Whore never sound of little feet Is heard from morn till night; No tiny hands that fast undo, That pull things all awry, No baby hurts to pity As the quiet daya go by. The house is all in order, And free from tiresome noise, No moments of confusion, No scattered, broken toys: And the children's little garments Are never soiled or torn, But are laid away for ever Just as they last were worn. And she, the sad-eyed mother, What would she give to-day To feel your cares and burdens, To walk yonr weary way! Ah, happiest on all this earth, Could she again but see The rooms all strewn with playthings And the children round her knee ! Atsti P. EUI'DBN , '0
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Bibliographic details
Bush Advocate, Volume XI, Issue 869, 9 December 1893, Page 5
Word Count
181The Quiet Home. Bush Advocate, Volume XI, Issue 869, 9 December 1893, Page 5
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