The Hymns My Mother Sang

I hear them still in me­mo­ry

No mat­ter where I go

The hymns my mo­ther sang to me

With ten­der voice and low.

She sang of Je­sus and His love

She sang Sweet hour of pray­er

She sang A land of pure de­light

Praise God I’ll meet her there!

The paths of sin I long had trod

But heard her voice again

Sing sin­ners plunged be­neath that flood

Lose all their guil­ty stain.

Oft times when sad

I hear her voice

Sing of a sure re­treat

From ev­ery stor­my wind that blows

Beneath the mer­cy seat.

I

saved by Je­sus’ grace can sing—

’Tis well now with my soul

I’ll meet her on the crown­ing day

Where surg­es cease to roll.