Mothers do their daughters tell, Pick a man who loves you well; Keep your own heart in reserve, And control you will preserve. If you must a true love find, Pray your husband will be blind To affairs you start and stop, Subtly pick and silent drop. Then they wonder why life’s dry, Why at times they have to cry, Why their beddings leave them cold, Why while young they feel so old. Ask a man. We know the truth, The secret of eternal youth: Give your heart without reserve, Lose control, and joy preserve Love in glory, bold and true. Do not wonder what you’ll do If more lovers come to you; Say a prayer and love them, too. Love is not a thing to hide, But a joy to share with pride, Not a door the lock to switch, When another makes you itch, But a room that all should share, All for whom you truly care, And you’ll find the room will grow, As more souls you come to know. Pain will come no matter what, But that pain is all you’ve got, If you let that fear of pain Make you from true love refrain. So dear mothers stop this sin; Tell your daughters: Let love in. Tell them give with all they own, And in glory reap what’s sown. Though it yield a garden small, ’Stead of fields of flowers tall, Or one bloom that comes in fall; Better that, than none at all.