«Brown Studies» — Poems by G. P. Brown, Punta Arenas, Chile, 1940


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Could I forget? The Cross What Profit a Man? May 1940 June 1940 Hyde Park Orators Are You Doing Your Bit? Home The Haven of Love Afterglow The Six Dolls Forget-me-not My Little Ship Mother's Day The Easy Way Mother Flea The Stockings' Lament The Gamble Who Was It? A Mother's Right Teach me to be Humble


Duncan Campbell


M O T H E R ' S   D A Y

Ye sons and daughters spare a thought, for
this your Mother's Day
A day of sweet remembrances, as we go on
our way;
To all, it gives another chance to gladden up
a heart,
Repay a fraction of their love - a tiny little part.

The great love of a Mother is as boundless as
the sky;
Too big for most to understand, or know the
reason why;
We seldom think of all the years, they watched
with tender care,
Until they're taken from us - we see the vacant

'Twas Mother tucked us in our beds, when we
were tiny mites,
'Twas Mother guarded us by day, and sat by
us thro' nights,
'Twas Mother smoothed our pillows, and soothed
us off to sleep,
'Tis MOTHER'S who are left at last - to sit alone
and weep.

'Twas Mother, with her watchful eyes, who saved
a nasty fall,
'Twas Mother worked her fingers bare, and took
no thanks at all,
'Twas Mother with her patient care, who taught
us all to pray,
'Twas Mother's never failing love, that ever
points the way.

'Twas Mother with her wisdom clear, gave us
that good advice,
'Twas Mother's knowledge, passed to us, that
shielded us from vice,
'Twas Mother helped us with our work, and
taught us step by step,
'Tis MOTHER'S good example, that we chiefly
follow yet.

'Twas Mother whom we went to, when our
troubles pulled us down,
'Twas Mother met us with a smile, and chased
away a frown,
'Twas Mother told us where to go,
to make another start,
'Tis MOTHER'S boundless sympathy, that stirs
the weakest heart.

'Twas Mother who was bravest, when her sons
went to war,
'Twas Mother, holding back her tears, who
cheered us from the door,
'Twas Mother carried on alone - alone her vigil
'Tis MOTHER'S who still bear the Cross - their
hearts with anguish rent.

'Twas Mother when her day had come, who
called us to her side,
'Twas Mother bade us carry on, as kneeling
there we cried,
'Twas Mother held us in her arms, and gave
that last caress,
'Tis MOTHER'S wondrous love that guides - e'en
though they're laid at rest.

'Tis little we can do or give, to balance up the
We can however, show the ??? - we never will
So, make this day a sacred one, a holy memory,
and pray that God will comfort them - wherever
They may be.