How often mothers are adorned With crowns and laurels, richly given, Yet fathers go unpraise'd and scorned, Unjustly left without their heaven.
They have not earned, it seems, a song, A ringing verse in their own right, We often pass them by in flight, Through their hard earthly days so long.
I ask: has no one of their kind Deserved the glory they have earned? Have they not for their children's mind Given all, with duty burned?
A father's steady, firm hand deals Both comfort and correction sure, They teach and guide—their strength reveals What makes a child's peace secure.
With what sweet tenderness they gaze Upon the sleeping child at rest, And weary eyes through all their days Keep watch upon the one they blessed.
And some of them, bereft and alone, Have raised their children through the years, Have welcomed them when fully grown, And bid them farewell through their tears.
And how many endless nights they've spent Bent over sickness, worn with care, In prayer their sleepless vigil lent, With tears of love beyond compare.
For you, O fathers, God has placed His family in your keeping true, And strength and wisdom He's embraced Within your hands—His power through you.
And though no laurels crown you now, No wreaths are yours this present day, The faithful fathers shall not bow Unrewarded—God will repay.
Your labours shall not pass away— They'll shine with glory ever new, When Heaven's Father comes to say How He has glorified you true!
You are the light of the world!
"You are the light of the world!"—still ring These words of Christ for all believers,— You, like a city on the mountain's wing, Reflect the light of God's receivers!
As lamps are not concealed from sight, But set where all the house can see, So let men glorify God's light, When they see your good works be free!
There is no use for tasteless salt, And candles without flame won't burn... "You are the light of the world!"—the exalt Of Jesus' words we must discern!
