My Dear Mother by Wesley Partridge

My Mother never smoked, nor drank. My Mother never swore. My Mother never played cards, or mounted up a score. My Mother never plucked her eyebrows. Nor rouged her dear sweet face. And on my Mother loving lips, no stains of paint, not a trace. My Mother never painted her nails. She never bleached her hair. But virtue, grace, and honesty, have been her jewels so rare. Today my Mother would be called old fashioned. How well I know. But oh how glad I am that God has made and kept her so.