Waiting to Hear the Verdict.
Copyright, 1889, by Harding Brothers.
In my journey thro' life sad cases I've met,
But there's one which I think I shall never forget;
'Twas a case I had charge of, a lad who was tried
For forging a check, but the crime he denied.
Tho' the only support of his mother was he,
He'd forgotten the lessons he'd learned at her knee;
Yet the mother was there, and she tried with her snub
To cheer up her boy in the time of his trial. '
She was waiting to hear the verdict,
Clasping her hands in prayer;
Waiting to hear the verdict
On the lad who was standing there.
Not a word could be heard,
No sound save the tick of the clock,
While waiting to hear the verdict
On her boy in the prisoner's dock.
Well the court-house was crowded, the judge took the chair,
As he bowed to the bit and the jurymen there;
And a thrill of compassion went right through the court
When the prisoner clung to the railing for support.
Then he shifted his gaze, till it rested on one
Who could ne'er take her eyes from the face of her son;
'Twas I he poor widowed mother, his only true friend,
Determined to cling to her son to the end.-Chorus.
It is said we're hard-hearted, and sometimes we are,
From reading of prisoners who're tried at the bar;
Yet my heart gave a leap of relief, you're assured,
At the jurymen's verdict: "Not guilty, my Lord!"
Their decision, I've heard, was opposed to the law,
But who cares for that? it was justice, I'm sure;
For it filled a true heart with the wildest of joy,
And saved a fond mother who fought for her boy.-Chorus.