Oft Within A Little Cottage


Oft within a little cottage,
As the shadows gently fall,
While the sunlight touches softly
One sweet face upon the wall,
There the lonely loved ones gather
And in hushed and tender tone
Ask each other’s full forgiveness
For the wrong that each had done.

As I wondered why this custom,
At the closing of the day,
“‘Tis because,” they sweetly answered,
“It was once our mother’s way.”

If our home be bright and cheery,
If it holds a welcome true,
Op’ning wide its door of greeting
To the many-not the few;
If we share our Father’s bounty,
With the needy day by day,
‘Tis because our hearts remember,
“This was ever mother’s way.”

Gentle mother, loving mother,
Sainted mother, fond and true;
Resting now in peace with Jesus,
Loving hearts remember you.

Sometimes when our hearts grow weary,
Or our task seems very long,
When our burdens look too heavy,
And we deem the right all wrong,
Then we gain anew fresh courage,
As once more we rise to say,
“Let us do our duty bravely,
This was our dear mother’s way.”

Gentle mother, loving mother,
Sainted mother, fond and true;
Resting now in peace with Jesus,
Loving hearts remember you.

Oh, how oft it comes before us,
That sweet face upon the wall;
And her mem’ry seems more precious,
As we on her Saviour call;
That at last, when ev’ning shadows
Mark the closing of life’s day,
They may find us calmly waiting
To go home our mother’s way.

Gentle mother, loving mother,
Sainted mother, fond and true;
Resting now in peace with Jesus,
Loving hearts remember you.