Daughter, Don’t Let Mother Do It


DAUGHTER, don't let mother do it;

Do not let her slave and toil

While you sit a useless idler,

Fearing your soft hands to soil.

Don't you see the heavy burdens

Daily she is wont to bear

Bring the lines upon the forehead,

Sprinkle silver in her hair?

Daughter, don't let mother do it;

Do not let her bake and broil

Through the long, bright summer hours;

Share with her the heavy toil.

See, her eyes have lost their brightness,

Faded from her cheeks the glow,

And the step that once was buoyant

Now is feeble, weak, and slow.

Daughter, don't let mother do it;

She has cared for you too long.

Is it right the weak and feeble

Should be toiling for the strong?

Waken from your listless laughter,

Seek her side, to cheer and bless,

And your grief will be less bitter

When the sods above her press.

Daughter, don't let mother do it;

You will never, never know

What were home without a mother

Till that mother lieth low -

Low beneath the budding daisies,

Free from earthly care or pain,

To the house so sad without her,

Never to return again.


YI