From some distant homes perhaps torn
Because grim justice took a fit—
Coming in with sighs and sadness,
A bondsman for his life or "bit."
Far his loving wife and children,
While their eyes with tears are wet;
Though his family needs him daily.
And there are bills that must be met,
To this convict world about us,
With its heartless woe and din,
Endless stream of restless mortals
Adding to its load of sin.
Time goes on so very slowly,
Though we try hard not to grieve
For the dear old family homestead
And for those we're forced to leave;
Weary are we very often,
Weary when we try to win
News of those who loved us dearly
Ere we took this step in sin.