THE BLIND MOTHER.
Copyright. 1888, by Willis Woodward & Co.
Words and Music by Paul Dresser.
A careworn face has waited and watched for many a day,
By the window for a fair-haired boy, who lone since went away
Across the seas, but still the flame of love for him doth burn,
For one sweet look, for one sweet face, oh, will he e'er return?
For years, poor soul, she's waited with patient, anxious eye,
For years she's never failed to scan the face of passers by;
Each night she kneels down by his cot and prays aloud for him,
The constant watch she's kept so long has made her eyes grow dim.
When she hears a footstep her heart bounds with joy,
She trembles like a leaf And hopes 'tis her boy;
She feels she's growing older, she knows it cannot last.
Oh, boy come to your mother, her eyes are failing fast.
Long years have passed but now I see that same old face again,
'Tis changed, 'tis sad and still, with all you see no trace of pain;
She's seated by the window, she is rocking to and fro,
And murmuring tome old nursery rhyme she learned long ago.
But like all noble womankind, with hope unto the last.
She's watched through many a Summer's day, many a Winter's blast;
But now she listens to the plaintive moaning of the wind.
She hears, she feels, but that is all, the mother now is blind.
Hark, hark, a footstep, she's not heard in years,
Those eyes that were sightless, again filled with tears;
She falls In his arms with a sharp cry of pain,
In the arms of her boy she'll ne'er see again.