MATER DOLOROSA by M. E. Paull

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Oct 15, 1901

MATER DOLOROSA.

By M. E. Paull

Because of one small, low-laid head, all crowned With golden hair, For evermore all fair young brows to me A halo wear. I kiss them reverently. Alas! I know The pain I bear.

Because of dear but close-shut childish eyes Of heaven's own blue, All little eyes do fill my own with tears, Whate'er their hue; And, motherly, I gaze their innocent, Clear depths into.

Because of little pallid lips, which once My name did call, No childish voice, in vain appeal, upon My ears doth fall. I count it all my joy their joys to share, And sorrows small.

Because of little, dimpled, waxen hands Which folded lie, All little hands henceforth to me do have A pleading cry. I clasp them as they were small wandering birds Lured home to fly.

Because of little death-cold feet, for earth's Rough roads unmeet, I'd journey leagues to save from sin or harm Such little feet, And count the lowliest service done for them So sacred, sweet!

— M. E. Paull, in Altruist Interchange.