She's sweeter than the fragrances
That fill the dell in spring,
A joy she is above the joys
That all the years can bring.
She's dearer than the dearest friend
That I will ever know,
Her prayers ever guide me on
No matter where I go.
Her love is furrowed deep with cares,
Her hair is streaked with gray,
And rosary beads slip through the hands
That first joined mine to pray.
And though the years have dimmed those eyes
That were so lustrous fair,
'Tis death alone can take away
The love-light shining there.
At night when kneeling down to pray
I thank our Lord above,
Who was so good to give me
My Mother's deathless love.
Author Unknown
