Dear Mother, in dreams I see her,
With loved face sweet and calm.
And hear her voice with love rejoice,
When nestling on her arm.
I think how she softly pressed me,
Of the tears in each glistening eye,
As her watch she'd keep when she rocked to sleep,
Her child with this lullaby:
Ah! E'en when her life was ebbing,
Her words were all of me.
My future years were all her fears,
Her fate 'twas not to see.
My father, I heard you weeping,
As in sorrow you standing by.
And my mother's plaint in her accents faint,
This tender sweet lullaby: