My Mothers Hands
A pair of gentle hands that smoothed life’s path.
And led a child's unwilling steps aright;
That bravely strove to ease my pains and cares -
That my mothers hands could make my troubles light.
Through school days, too, her hands were always there
To seek my comfort or to share my fame;
Their tender class held more than mother-love -
Told me I must always "play the game”
And now, no longer young, and worn with toil,
Yet dearer still to one who understands;
‘Tis I who mean to lift all cares, all trials,
And give them rest and peace - my mothers hands.
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