Classic Poem

Old Sister Mary Gregory
Goes down upon her knees,
Calloused and creaky at the joints
With life-long pieties.
You'll hear her mutter at her prayers
And catch her breath and wheeze.

Like some tried faithful servant
That has her Master's ear,
Old Sister Mary Gregory
Insists that God shall hear.
She has so much to say to Him
She says it without fear.

For though a convent hid her youth,
And she was no man's bride,
And never heard a baby's feet
Pit-patter at her side,
Yet she has children by the score
And sends them far and wide.

She's sons that go across the sea,
They write from far away.
She's children sick and children sad,
And children wild and gay
She tells their names each night to God
Lest they forget to pray.

The Devil dreads a mother's heart
So greatly will she dare;
So fierce she is to evil,
So armed she is in prayer;
And Sister Mary Gregory
Fights boldly for her care.

They disremember now and then
The apple-faced old nun;
But still she holds them in her heart,
Each daughter and each son,
And where the Altar light burns red
She counts them one by one.

If she should die before them
And win her golden store,
She'll choose a Heavenly Mansion
Well furnished for a score,
And there they'll find her waiting
Outside her open door.