'Tis noon of day and noon of life,
And the infant is now a youth,
And the mother's heart to its depth is stirred,
As it feels the bitter truth.
That years have passed with their length of days,
And the babe no longer a child,
Though loved by all, by many praised,
Is not loving the Master's precepts mild.
So carefully striving day by day
Lost footsteps to retrace,
The mother's heart goes blindly on,
Prays for the seed a resting-place.
But the youth is filled with the hour's conceit;
The ground is stony and choked with weeds,
And seeds of evil already sown
Must be rooted out ere we sow good seeds.
And now again the household care
Is ruling heart and mind,
And neighbors oft her bounty share,
And love the eye doth blind.