Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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MOTHER MOG. |
 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
529
MOTHER MOG.
Mother Mog has a kindly
Compassionate brow,
If she moves about blindly
With suffering now;
Though she never was married,
Her children are scores,
On her broad bosom carried—
And babes she adores.
Ah, the young and uncared for and helpless for miles,
Ev'ry cat, ev'ry dog,
Know the light of the blessing and warmth of the smiles
Of the good Mother Mog.
Compassionate brow,
If she moves about blindly
With suffering now;
Though she never was married,
Her children are scores,
On her broad bosom carried—
And babes she adores.
Ah, the young and uncared for and helpless for miles,
Ev'ry cat, ev'ry dog,
Know the light of the blessing and warmth of the smiles
Of the good Mother Mog.
Mother Mog was thrown early
Adrift on the street,
In the fierce hurly-burly
And fever of feet;
But the sin and the sorrow
Oped fountains of love
In her heart, and a morrow
Of mercy above.
She possessed not one gift but a beautiful soul,
And that pestilent Bog
Which had sucked down whole worlds in its slimy control
Could not snare Mother Mog.
Adrift on the street,
In the fierce hurly-burly
And fever of feet;
But the sin and the sorrow
Oped fountains of love
In her heart, and a morrow
Of mercy above.
She possessed not one gift but a beautiful soul,
And that pestilent Bog
Which had sucked down whole worlds in its slimy control
Could not snare Mother Mog.
Mother Mog has the pureness
Which comes from the heart,
And that gives her secureness
When iron bolts part;
For her innocent pity
Looks out on the pall
Of that terrible City,
And suffers for all.
But still nothing can stay her or stumble her path,
Neither lion nor log;
And she walks yet unsinged in the furnace of wrath—
Simple sweet Mother Mog.
Which comes from the heart,
And that gives her secureness
When iron bolts part;
For her innocent pity
Looks out on the pall
Of that terrible City,
And suffers for all.
But still nothing can stay her or stumble her path,
Neither lion nor log;
And she walks yet unsinged in the furnace of wrath—
Simple sweet Mother Mog.
530
Mother Mog has no learning,
To teach her the truth,
But her mind feels the yearning
Of infinite youth;
And though more than twice thirty
Her nature is green,
And if awkward and dirty
She moves like a Queen.
She's a copy of Christ, and would die for the sin,
That we flatter or flog;
And I here raise my hat to the angel, within
The poor plain Mother Mog.
To teach her the truth,
But her mind feels the yearning
Of infinite youth;
And though more than twice thirty
Her nature is green,
And if awkward and dirty
She moves like a Queen.
She's a copy of Christ, and would die for the sin,
That we flatter or flog;
And I here raise my hat to the angel, within
The poor plain Mother Mog.
| Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | |