Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/362

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so good, O thou so perfect,
 * Who lovest us with so much love,

With joy we hail thy birthday, Mother,
 * Day all other days above.

In exchange of all our presents,
 * Of our songs composed for thee,

Of our field-flowers and our roses,
 * Give us kisses tenderly.

For thee, each day, O darling mother,
 * We lift our voices to the Lord;

But in prayer for thee this morning,
 * More fervently have we adored.

God will hear it; on thy pathway,
 * He will such rich blessings spread,

So much calm, O mother cherished,
 * That thou tears shalt never shed.

Then, to please thee, in our duties,
 * We shall try to do our best,

Never lift our heads while praying
 * Just before we go to rest.

Never make a noise or tumult,
 * When thou bidd'st us quiet be,

And the loudest shall be silent
 * At a single sign from thee.