A Dream of My Mother and My Home
(published by Horace Waters, N.Y., 1862)
My mother and my home, Ah! what pleasant words to me,
They light up my drooping where-ever I may be,
And the joys of other days o’er my senses gently glide,
While lonely I struggle with worlds busy tide,
While I rest from my toils at the close of day,
And bright happy visions around me play,
Recalling the loved voices far away,
I dream of my mother and my home.
My mother, my mother.
How oldtime memories will come,
I dream of my dear and gentle mother,
I dream of my mother and my home.
My mother and my home! Ah! the happy days are gone,
When all their sweet blessings were around my pathway thrown,
But visions of bright days will still come back again
Renewing departed joys like some familiar strain,
I see many homes filled with mirth and glee,
But now in this wide world there’s none for me;
But the hours brighter grow, and my heart beats free,
When I dream of my mother and my home.