Mother Is Dead

In memory of sister, Mattie Monson.
Mother is dead, those dear hands are
folded;
Hands that have labored from morn-
ing till late.
Jesus has clasped them while cross-
ing the portal,
Leading her in through the beautiful
gate.
Often and often at Sabbath day
dawning,
How they have dressed all the little
ones clean;
Led them to Sunday school, lovingly,
guiding,
Teaching them early on Jesus to lean.

Mother is dead, those lips now are
silent,
Lips that have truly said, "Thy will
be done.
Into Thy hands, O dear Lord, I com-
mit them,"
Breathing a prayer for each dearly
loved one.
Also a prayer for the dear loved com-
panion,
Asking a blessing to rest on his head,
That he remaineth a kind, Christian
father;
With care for the children as mother
is dead.

Daughter is dead, O weep not, dear
mother,
It is all right, no more sorrow or
pain,
In my Father's house there are many
bright mansions,
There I will meet all the loved ones
again.
Sister is dead, 0 weep not, dear
sister,
Companions in childhood no more
will we meet;
'Till each cross the river of death and
are landed,
To dwell with the ransomed at
Jesus' feet.

^__Nettie Squire Sutton.

A Book of Poems
Nettie Squire Sutton
(Minneapolis, KS: Messenger Press. n.d.)
Pages 10-11