A poem dedicated to Jesus, the great Mother of all living, who love His children like a hen gathers her chicks under her wings

How the changing years have borne me
     Far away from days of home!
Now no Mother bends above me
     When the time for sleep has come. 

But it gives my poor heart comfort,
     And it brings me rest within,
Just to dream that I am little
     And my Mother tucks me in.

As I kneel there with my brother
     By the bed above the stairs,
And I hear my gentle Mother
     Whisper, “Boys, remember prayers!” 

Then she comes and prays beside us,
     “Father, keep them from all sin.”
Oh! her kiss is tender, loving,
     When my Mother tucks me in.

When at last the evening finds me
     And life’s busy day is done,
All the bands of earth that bind me
     Shall be broken one by one. 

Then; O Lord, be Thou my comfort,
     Calm my soul Thy peace to win;
Let me fall asleep as gently
     As when Mother tucked me in. 

-H.M.S. Richards Sr.