 | Morning Glories : |  |
FADED FLOWERS.
I've a little bunch of flowers,
Which were pressed by mother's hand,
Ere we laid her form forever neath the sod,
When her loving eyes had looked their last
Upon this lowly land,
And her spirit winged its upward flight to God.
Which were pressed by mother's hand,
Ere we laid her form forever neath the sod,
When her loving eyes had looked their last
Upon this lowly land,
And her spirit winged its upward flight to God.
Old time has changed their gorgeous hue
To that of sombre brown,
The emerald leaves are crumbling to decay.
But in my heart there ever lives
Her image fond and true,
Which I shall cherish to my dying day.
This life seems far less bright to me,
And friendship cold and strange,
The summer skies have lost their gold and blue,
The seasons sadly come and go.
I reckon not their change,
Since mother's face is hidden from my view.
The happy birds in springtime wake
Their joyful notes in vain,
No more I seek the woodland's cool retreat.
To that of sombre brown,
The emerald leaves are crumbling to decay.
But in my heart there ever lives
Her image fond and true,
Which I shall cherish to my dying day.
This life seems far less bright to me,
And friendship cold and strange,
The summer skies have lost their gold and blue,
The seasons sadly come and go.
I reckon not their change,
Since mother's face is hidden from my view.
The happy birds in springtime wake
Their joyful notes in vain,
No more I seek the woodland's cool retreat.
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My sad and longing heart can find
No comfort for its pain,
No matter whither tend my weary feet.
But in that far off happy land,
That home of light above,
Where heavenly flowers dispel their odors sweet,
I know that mother patiently awaits with eyes of love
The coming of her children there to greet.
No comfort for its pain,
No matter whither tend my weary feet.
But in that far off happy land,
That home of light above,
Where heavenly flowers dispel their odors sweet,
I know that mother patiently awaits with eyes of love
The coming of her children there to greet.
| Morning Glories : | |