The Departed Blessing

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Jul 22, 1913

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 40, No. 28.

The Departed Blessing

"I wonder so that mothers ever fret At little children clinging at their gown, Or that the footsteps, when the days are wet, Are ever black enough to make them frown. If I could find a little muddy boot, A cap, or jacket on my chamber floor; If I could hear the sound of restless feet, Or hear them patter in my home once more; If I could mend a broken cart to-day, To-morrow make a kite to reach the sky, There is no woman on this earth could say She was more blissfully content than I. But, O, that little pillow soft and white Is never rumpled by a shiny head, My singing birdling from its nest has flown, The little boy I used to love is dead. But now it seems surpassing strange to me That while I wore the badge of motherhood, I did not kiss more oft and tenderly The little child that brought me only good."