MOTHER'S LOCKS OF SNOW.
Copyright, 1887, by T. B. Kelley.
It seems to me but yesterday. though long, long years have fled,
When mother danced me on " her knee, while tender words she said;
She called me her own darling child, and fondly me caress'd.
she'd sing to me until I'd fall a sleeping on her breast.
Methinks I see her gentle smile, her noble, winsome face,
Methinks I see that faultless form, the regime of grace;
. At sunrise she would take my hand, and in the fields we'd go.
I'd pick wild flowers, and mingle them with mother's locks of snow
Mother's locks of snow, I oft gaze in the locket that she gave me long ago,
Her dear old face is smiling there, so gentle and so fair;
Tho' main years have passed since I a mother's love did know.
I cherish still that simple curl of mother's locks of snow.
No more she'll sing those songs to me I loved so well to hear.
In memory I seem to hear her voice so soft and clear;
She was too pure for this cold world, but anguish filled my heart.
To hear her say as death drew near, one kiss, dear, ere we part.
Her spirit fled, " and on her grave I've planted flowers rare,
They bud and bloom, and fade away, as did her face so fair:
Tho many years have passed since I a mother's love did know,
I cherish still that simple curl of mother's locks of snow -Chorus.