There's no other word that's spoken, "Neath the starry sky
above, Can so touch our hearts, as "Mother," Or inspire so pure a love
It awakened with our being, And in sweet maternal ways,
It was hallowed as 'twas nurtured in our happy childhood days.
Through our ills and cares and sorrows no one else is
e'er so true, Or so willing to forgive us, Whatsoever we may do.
In our eyes and thoughts no other has so kind and
saintly face, And of all we fondly cherish Non can ever fill her place.