Dear Father-Mother, Love,
The tranquil daylight dies;
Home to her nest the gentle dove
On eager pinions flies;
And slow-limbed cattle come
Down from the pasture late,
To gaze in patient wonder by
An old familiar gate.
Now, splashed with starlight's gold,
Contented from their play,
The young lambs hasten to the fold
To wait another day.
They heed their shepherd's call,
And trust his tender care;
Home to the wide-flung door they run,
And find sweet shelter there.
Oh, when earth's shadows fall
About us black as night,
May we, Thine own dear children all,
Come home to Love's warm light.
Thy Science, Love divine,
With gentle touch shall lead
The fearful through the darkening mist,
And all the hungry feed;
The weary ones shall find
A calm and sure release;
The sad, the sick, the halt, the blind,
Shall know Thy active peace.
Thine ever-outstretched arm
Shall gather all who roam
Into the circle of Thy love,
Into their heavenly home.
