1.Often intfolly straying,O,my mother! how I've grieved her! Oft I've heard her for me praying,Till the gushing tears relieved her;And she gently rose and smiled,Whispering,"God will keep my child."
2.She was youthful then,and sprightly,Fondly on my father leaning,Sweet she spoke,her eyes shone brightly,And her words were full of meaning;Now,an autumn leaf decayed;I,perhaps,have made it fade.
3.But,whatever ills betide thee,Mother,in them all I share;In thy sickness watch beside thee,And beside thee kneel in prayer.
Best of mothers! on my breast Lean thy head,and sink trest.
