I must hasten home to my mother dear—
She will seek me amid the bowers.
If she chides, I will seal her lips with a kiss,
And offer her all my flowers.
I must hasten home, said a beggar girl,
As she carried the pitiful store
Of crumbs and scraps of crusted bread,
She had gathered from door to door;
I must hasten home to my mother dear—
She is feeble, and old, and poor!