THE LAST SONG
Just one more little song, mother,
Before I go to sleep;
For thou hast often hushed my heart
To slumber soft and deep.
Before ’tis dark I long, mother,
For thy dear voice, which seems
To make thy gentle face a part
Of childhood’s golden dreams.
Just one more little song, mother,
Before I sink to rest;
For thou hast often stilled my fears
Upon thy tender breast.
Thy love so great was strong, mother,
With childhood’s safe repose
On lips that kissed away its tears,
In arms that held it close.
Just one more little song, mother,
Before I dream of skies
Where stars and flowers smile and shine
And angel-harps surprise.
But not in Heaven’s throng, mother,
Is there a dearer face,
A sweeter song or soul than thine
The Gloryland to grace.