Poems (Crandall)/Peace

by Rosa Neil Crandall

For works with similar titles, see Peace.

Gaurd the door

  It flew from a mother's lips,
  It pierced a loving heart,
A harsh rebuke for a child's mistake;
  The hot tears quickly start.

  But a sense of bitter shame,
  In the mother's breast is stirred;
For an acquaintance passing by,
  The unkind speech has heard.

  And did she then forget
  The friend that is always near?
That never slumbers—ever waits
  Our lightest tone to hear?

  And is it naught, that she
  Should grieve the One above?
And, is a passing friend's regard
  Prized more than her children's love?