Honor thy Father and Mother.
Copyright, 1885, by Wm. J. McVey.
Written for and sung by America's favorite, Chauncey Olcott.
The bright recollections of childhood come back
Thro' the years that have faded away;
Again I'm a boy in the old village home,
Where I first saw the light of the day.
Once more in the glow of the cherry old grate,
Sitting on grandmother's knee;
Her old wrinkled face beaming fondly with love,
As she whispers this lesson to me:
Honor thy father and mother,
Change every sorrow to joy;
Remember the words of sweet childhood's refrain,
Honor thy parents, my boy.
'Twas the Father of all who spake the sweet words,
That grandma repeated to me,
And faithful I've been to the sacred advice,
That I learned when a child on her knee.
Like the bright star that guides the storm-beaten bark
Of the mariner, safe o'er the wave;
Was the lesson of love, I learned from the lips
Now silent and mute in the grave.-Chorus.
How sweet the reflection of duty well done,
At night in the firelight glow;
The old folks are telling my own little ones,
The sweet words I learn'd long ago.
On a bright Summer morning the old wrinkled face
Was hid 'neath the murmuring trees,
But oft in the twilight her sweet words of love,
Come back to my ear on the breeze.-Chorus.