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My Mothers Hand Is On My Brow
My mother's hand is on my brow,
Her gentle voice is pleading now;
Across the years so marred by sin
What memories of love steal in!
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O mother, when I think of thee,
'Tis but a step to Calvary;
Thy gentle hand upon my brow
Is leading me to Jesus now.
Once more I see that look of pain,
The anguish in those eyes again;
My heart is sad, for well I know
My sin has caused this bitter woe.
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While others scorned me in their pride
She gently drew me to her side;
When all the world has turned away,
My mother stood by me that day.
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The memories of bygone years,
My mother's love, my mother's tears,
The tho't of all her constant care
Doth bring the answer to her prayer.
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I'm coming home, by sin beset,
For Jesus loves me even yet;
My mother's love brings home to me
The greater love of Calvary.
Refrain
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