The Devonshire MotherBy Marjorie Wilson(In “The Westminster Gazette.”)
By Marjorie Wilson
(In “The Westminster Gazette.”)
The king have called the Devon lads and they be answering fine—But shadows seem to hide this way, for all the sun do shine,For there’s Squire’s son have gone for one, and Parson’s son—and mine.I mind the day mine went from me—the skies were all aglow—The cows deep in our little lanes was comin’ home so slow—“And don’t ’ee never grieve yourself,” he said, “because I go.”His arms were strong around me, then he turned and went away—I heard the little childer dear a’ singin’ at their play;The meanin’ of an achin’ heart is hid from such as they.And scarce a day goes by now but I set my door ajar,And watch the road that Jan went up, the time he went to war,That when he’ll come again to me, I’ll see him from afar.And in my chimney seat o’ nights, when quiet grows the farm,I pray the Lord he be not cold, while I have fire to warm—And give the mothers humble hearts whose boys are kept from harm.And then I take the Book and read before I seek my rest,Of how that other Son went forth (them parts I like the best),And left his mother lone for him she’d cuddled on her breast.I like to think when nights were dark, and Him at prayer, maybe,Upon the gurt dark mountain side, or in His boat at sea,He worried just a bit for her, who’d learnt Him at her knee.And maybe when He minds her ways, He will not let Jan fall—I’m thinkin’ He will know my boy, with his dear ways an’ all—With his tanned face, his eyes of blue, and he so strappin’ tall.
The king have called the Devon lads and they be answering fine—But shadows seem to hide this way, for all the sun do shine,For there’s Squire’s son have gone for one, and Parson’s son—and mine.I mind the day mine went from me—the skies were all aglow—The cows deep in our little lanes was comin’ home so slow—“And don’t ’ee never grieve yourself,” he said, “because I go.”His arms were strong around me, then he turned and went away—I heard the little childer dear a’ singin’ at their play;The meanin’ of an achin’ heart is hid from such as they.And scarce a day goes by now but I set my door ajar,And watch the road that Jan went up, the time he went to war,That when he’ll come again to me, I’ll see him from afar.And in my chimney seat o’ nights, when quiet grows the farm,I pray the Lord he be not cold, while I have fire to warm—And give the mothers humble hearts whose boys are kept from harm.And then I take the Book and read before I seek my rest,Of how that other Son went forth (them parts I like the best),And left his mother lone for him she’d cuddled on her breast.I like to think when nights were dark, and Him at prayer, maybe,Upon the gurt dark mountain side, or in His boat at sea,He worried just a bit for her, who’d learnt Him at her knee.And maybe when He minds her ways, He will not let Jan fall—I’m thinkin’ He will know my boy, with his dear ways an’ all—With his tanned face, his eyes of blue, and he so strappin’ tall.
The king have called the Devon lads and they be answering fine—But shadows seem to hide this way, for all the sun do shine,For there’s Squire’s son have gone for one, and Parson’s son—and mine.
The king have called the Devon lads and they be answering fine—
But shadows seem to hide this way, for all the sun do shine,
For there’s Squire’s son have gone for one, and Parson’s son—and mine.
I mind the day mine went from me—the skies were all aglow—The cows deep in our little lanes was comin’ home so slow—“And don’t ’ee never grieve yourself,” he said, “because I go.”
I mind the day mine went from me—the skies were all aglow—
The cows deep in our little lanes was comin’ home so slow—
“And don’t ’ee never grieve yourself,” he said, “because I go.”
His arms were strong around me, then he turned and went away—I heard the little childer dear a’ singin’ at their play;The meanin’ of an achin’ heart is hid from such as they.
His arms were strong around me, then he turned and went away—
I heard the little childer dear a’ singin’ at their play;
The meanin’ of an achin’ heart is hid from such as they.
And scarce a day goes by now but I set my door ajar,And watch the road that Jan went up, the time he went to war,That when he’ll come again to me, I’ll see him from afar.
And scarce a day goes by now but I set my door ajar,
And watch the road that Jan went up, the time he went to war,
That when he’ll come again to me, I’ll see him from afar.
And in my chimney seat o’ nights, when quiet grows the farm,I pray the Lord he be not cold, while I have fire to warm—And give the mothers humble hearts whose boys are kept from harm.
And in my chimney seat o’ nights, when quiet grows the farm,
I pray the Lord he be not cold, while I have fire to warm—
And give the mothers humble hearts whose boys are kept from harm.
And then I take the Book and read before I seek my rest,Of how that other Son went forth (them parts I like the best),And left his mother lone for him she’d cuddled on her breast.
And then I take the Book and read before I seek my rest,
Of how that other Son went forth (them parts I like the best),
And left his mother lone for him she’d cuddled on her breast.
I like to think when nights were dark, and Him at prayer, maybe,Upon the gurt dark mountain side, or in His boat at sea,He worried just a bit for her, who’d learnt Him at her knee.
I like to think when nights were dark, and Him at prayer, maybe,
Upon the gurt dark mountain side, or in His boat at sea,
He worried just a bit for her, who’d learnt Him at her knee.
And maybe when He minds her ways, He will not let Jan fall—I’m thinkin’ He will know my boy, with his dear ways an’ all—With his tanned face, his eyes of blue, and he so strappin’ tall.
And maybe when He minds her ways, He will not let Jan fall—
I’m thinkin’ He will know my boy, with his dear ways an’ all—
With his tanned face, his eyes of blue, and he so strappin’ tall.