The path is hard your feet must travel, little one,
The way is long, and weary is the load.
The clouds are black, that threaten soon to hide the sun;
A chilling fear is lurking by the road.

But gather close the cloak your mother wove for you,
To keep you safe in danger and in storm;
Her very heart has made a shield of love for you,
Strong as her faith, and like her courage warm.

The cheery house that cradled you is far away;
The pretty toy that pleased you as a child;
The inn you hope to enter at the close of day
Is hidden still beyond the forest wild.

But wrap you warm in love that was the whole of her,
And walk in joy, as she would have you do.
The thread of life she spun from out the soul of her
Draws you to her again a magic clue.