You may talk of the work of the greatest of man,|
You may rave about statesmen and teachers;
You may tell all about their achievements, and then,
Let me tell you of the wives of the preachers.
No Martyr was ever more steadfast and true
No soldier was ever more brave;
She's a genius at home, she's a diplomat, too;
And the Best Mother God ever gave.
She has met disappointments with courage so high;
She has battled grim poverty, too.
With a smile on her face and a light in her eye,
And a hope each morning that's new.
She is often alone, but she'll never complain;
And she cheerfully stays by the stuff;
Knowing well that her loss is her dear Master's gain,
And His smile of approval's enough.
She never gets all the credit that's due,
For most of it goes to the preacher;
Few know of the faith and courage so true,
Of this gentle and wonderful creature.
There is coming a day when the whole world shall hear
From the lips of the Crucified One,
Her story in full, told in words sweet and clear,
Hear Him say to her softly, "well done."
And I think that when all of their labors are o'er,
And we know all their unselfish lives,
We'll honor more highly than ever before
The preachers' most wonderful wives.