The Woman's Page

~*~The Woman's Page~*~ flowerbar

~Tell Her So~ garden

Amid the cares of married strife
In spite of toil and business life
If you value your dear wife-
Tell her so!

When days are dark and deeply blue
She has her troubles, same as you
Show her that your love is true
Tell her so!

Don't act as if she's past her prime
As tho' to please her were a crime
If ever you loved her, now's the time-
Tell her so!

She'll return for each caress
A hundred fold of tenderness,
Hearts like hers were made to bless;
Tell her so!

You are hers and hers alone;
Well you know she's all your own;
Don't wait to carve it on a stone-
Tell her so!

Never let her heart grow cold
Richer beauties will unfold
She is worth her weight in gold
Tell her so!
-AUTHOR UNKNOWN

~Mother's Hands~ butterflies

Dear gentle hands have stroked my hair
And cooled my brow,
Soft hands that pressed me close
And seemed to know somehow
Those fleeting and erring thoughts
That cloud my day,
Which quickly beneath their suffrage
And pass away.No other balm for eartly pain
Is half so sure,
Now sweet caress so filled with love
Nor half so pure,
No other soul so close akin that understands,
No touch that brings such perfect peace as Mother's hands.
-W. DAYTON WEDGEFARTH rose

Mother in gladness, Mother in sorrow,
With arms ever open to fold and caress you
O Mother of mine, may God keep you and bless you.
-W. DAYTON WEDGEFARTH mom

~The Old Mother~ bar

Poor old lady, set her aside-
Her children are grown, and her work is done;
True, in their service, her locks turned gray,
But shove her away, unsought, alone.

Give her a home, for decency's sake,
In some back room, far out of the way,
Where her tremulous voicecannot be heard-
It might check your mirth when you would be gay.

Strive to forget how she toiled for you
And cradled you oft on her loving breast-
Told you stories and joined your play,
Many an hour when she needed rest.

No matter that-huddle her off;
Your friends might wince at her witty jest;
She is too old-fashioned, and speaks so plain-
Get her out of the way of the coming guest.

Once you valued her cheerful voice,
Her hearty laugh and her merry song;
But to ears polite they are quite too loud-
Her jokes too sharp, her tales too long.

So, poor old lady, hustle her off-
In her cheerless room let her sit alone;
She must not meet with yor guests tonight,
For her children are grown and her work is done.
-AUTHOR UNKNOWN

~Prayer of Any Husband~ bar

Lord, may there be no moment in her life
When she regrets that she became my wife,
And keep her dear eyes just a trifle blind
To my defects, and to my failings kind!

Help me to do the utmost that I can
To prove myself her measure of a man,
But, if I often fail as mortals may,
Grant that she never sees my feet of clay!

And let her make allowance-now and then-
That we are only grown-up boys, we men,
So, loving all our children, she will see,
Sometimes, a remnant of the child in me!

Since years must bring to all their load of care,
Let us together every buren bear,
And when Death beckons one its path along,
May not the two of us be parted long!
-MAZIE V. CARUTHERS

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