WAITING AT THE FERRY.
Copyright, 1886, by Willis Woodward & Co.
At the entrance to the ferry, where the lights are burning dim
A poor old woman shivers in the cold;
A longing look is fixed upon the dear, old, wrinkled face,
A face, that had its beauty long ago.
She is waiting for her boy, her all in all on earth,
Her eyes speak love altho' her lips are dumb;
The morning that he left her, she kiss'd him and she said,
I'll meet you at the ferry when you come!
Poor old mother with her sllv'ry hair,
Waiting and watching for her loved one ev'rywhere;
The snow may fall around her, she whispers but his name,
While waiting at the ferry for the boy who never came.
The tatter'd shawl around her cannot keep away the cold,
While waiting for the one that she expects;
As bright and happy faces pass the poor old mother by,
She says, he'll surely come upon the next.
But her boy has cross'd the river to the land of love and peace,
They tell her that his earthly work is done;
Let her live in sweet expectancy, her waiting's nearly o'er,
And the ferry shall unite her with her son!-Chorus.