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Edgar Guest - The Harder Part
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It`s mighty hard for Mother—I am busy through the day
And the tasks of every morning keep the gloomy thoughts away,
And I`m not forever meeting with a slipper or a gown
To remind me of our sorrow when I`m toiling in the town.
But with Mother it is different—there`s no minute she is free
From the sight of things which tell her of the joy which used to be.
She is brave and she is faithful, and we say we`re reconciled,
But your hearts are always heavy once you`ve lost a little child;
And a man can face his sorrow in a manly sort of way,
For his grief must quickly leave him when he`s busy through the day;
But the mother`s lot is harder—she must learn to sing and smile
Though she`s living in the presence of her sorrow all the while.
Through the room where love once waited she must tip-toe day by day,
She must see through every window where the baby used to play,[Pg 63]
And there`s not a thing she touches, nor a task she finds to do,
But it sets her heart to aching and begins the hurt anew.
Oh, a man can turn from sorrow, for his mind is occupied,
But the mother`s lot is harder—grief is always at her side.
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