POETRY.
I’LL NEVER FIND ANOTHER. God bless my dear old mother ! Whate’er my fortune be, I’iJ never find another Who’ll be so true to me. Her hair, which once was raven, la lined with silver now. And crafty Time has graven Deep wrinkles on her brow. Yet, though her brow bears traces Cf trouble and of care. To me my mother's face is The fairest of the fair. So tender and forgiving, As gentle aa a dove, — Ah ! life were not worth living Without my mother’s love. How often, when complaining Of life’s perplexing care, When naught there seemed remaining Save countless ills to bear, My mother’s gentle chiding Has turned my thoughts above. And roused a faith abiding In God’s redeeming love. God bless my dear old mother I Bright be each later year! I’ll never find another Whom I may hold so dear. Oh ! how my life would alter, If mother were not near. And how my heart would falter Without her words of cheer.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/GLOBE18801116.2.24
Bibliographic details
Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 2100, 16 November 1880, Page 3
Word Count
167POETRY. Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 2100, 16 November 1880, Page 3
Using This Item
No known copyright (New Zealand)
To the best of the National Library of New Zealand’s knowledge, under New Zealand law, there is no copyright in this item in New Zealand.
You can copy this item, share it, and post it on a blog or website. It can be modified, remixed and built upon. It can be used commercially. If reproducing this item, it is helpful to include the source.
For further information please refer to the Copyright guide.
Log in