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Motherhood
When the Master took the world from His lathe and He sent it spinning along, It swung all right and it turned all right, but still there was something wrong; And I think He sat with His chin in His hand and studied it, years untold, And tried its balance and found it good, and studied the way it rolled; And He mapped its course and it kept it true, as it had been made to do, And He gave it rainbows and flashing rain, and He gave it stars and dew ; And He gave it oceans with mighty tides, and He gave it lakes and streams And blossomed meadows, but still it came not up to His spleen- did dreams.
And He gave it creatures to climb its hills, and birds where its forests stood, And then, because He had grown to love the world, gave it Motherhood. And then the birds in the forests sang as never they'd sung before, And the rivers sang and the oceans sang a song where they met the shore ; And a little mother, her babe in arms, sang a song that was sweet and new, A song of all of the dreams she'd had that her baby had made come true; And in her song was a love untold, a note that was sweet and clear, And the Master and all of the angels bent to the new-made world to hear.
And some of her song was of sacrifice, and some of her song was pain, And some of her song was of star-lit skies, and of blossoms wet with rain, And some of her song was of swinging boughs, and some of the skies above, But always and ever the throbbing sweet of all of her song was love. And because we know of the gift which made the world take the upward way We set one day of each year aside, and we name it our Mother's Day; And we wear a rose on our heart that day for all that is sweet and good, And we say a prayer in our thankfulness for God's gift of Motherhood.
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