Love her not because she asks it so;
For she does not say, "I gave you birth.
I gave you life and now, my child, you owe
The duty-risen love the gift is worth."
Love her not because of all the little things,
Selfless gifts when you were young, in days
When pets and parties, Christmas trees and swings
Were yours because she scrimped and found the ways.
Not because she is your dearest friend,
Pal and playmate, counselor and guide;
Always ready, willing ears to lend,
To share a smile or sooth a wounded pride.
Love her not for any one of these;
For none can in itself, alone, impart
The love which will, throughout eternities,
Fill each grateful daughter's humble heart.