I'VE HEARD MY OWN DEAR MOTHER SING.
I
I've heard my own dear mother sing a song of other times;
'Twas one she valued more than all her store of ballad rhymes.
The theme was one that's often sung—the faithlessness of man;
I cannot tell the story now, but thus the burden ran:
Beware, beware, O ladies fair,
Of man's deceit!—beware.
II
I wonder'd why my mother wept, for then she still was young;
Yet, with a touching earnestness, these warning lines she sung:
I used to think, “Man may be false, but what is that to us?”
Yet, when I said, “Come sing to me,” her burden still ran thus;
Beware, beware, O ladies fair,
Of man's deceit!—beware.
III
I never more shall hear that song from those dear lips again,
But in my mind remember'd still those warning words remain.
I thought not of them when I heard a lover's ardent vow;
But, oh! my mother! feelingly I sing that burden now:
Beware, beware, O ladies fair,
Of man's deceit!—beware.
