• Author: Unknown
• Editor:
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume V
• Page Number:
• Date: 7 17 1918
• Tags:
• poetry
• Annie O. Fassitt
• obituary

IN MEMORIAM MRS. ANNIE O. FASSITT

“O mother to a thousand lads!” So shall we hail you now; And pray God give you perfect peace, His stars upon your brow. The lads you loved and understand, And helped to know, and do the good, In tenderest homage bow.

The lads who never had a chance; —A man, by grace of you— The lad, who by a lad’s mistake, Drank of a bitter brew: The motherless lads chose the wrong; You mothered them all, and made them strong, To fashion life a-new.

We may not do the thing we would; Who hold your memory dear: We have no flowers to strew above, That low mound, year by year. We can but do the thing you’d ask; Faint not, nor murmur at our task, Because you are not here.