Shall I find a soft nest in your dear tender breast,
For the poor, lonely, heart-stricken one?
Dear Mother! dear Mother! the grave it is cold;
Yet there are my loved ones laid;
How sweet would it be, if I thought not of thee,
There to cool my poor feverish head!
Dear Mother! dear Mother! I long to die,
For my treasures are laid in heaven;
My husband is there, and my boy is there,
And my brothers and sisters seven!