DON'T TELL MOTHER THAT HER BOY WENT WRONG.
Copyright, 1895, by Widmer-Stigler Music Pub. Co.
Words and Music by Charles Harvey.
There's a cozy little cottage, nestled down among the hills,
In a village that is very far from here;
Where the sun is ever shining, and the song-bird ever trills,
And it shelters my old mother, fond and dear.
Still I see her in the door-way, as she stood that one sad day,
When I left my boyhood's home, my wings to try.
Though her eyes were dimm'd with weeping, as she sent me on my way,
With a smile upon her lips, she said, "Good-bye."
Still in mem'ry those sad words are borne along;
I no longer have a home, for an outcast now I roamDon't tell my mother that her boy went wrong.
In the early days I struggled, that a fortune I might make,
For I hoped my darling mother thus to please,
But the so-called friends around me said, "Why all this trouble take?
We will teach you to make money with more ease."
Then soon I learned to gamble and to play the races, too;
And one false step to another swiftly led.
I neglected my poor mother, and the friends I thought so true
One by one dropped from me when my cash had fled.- Chorus.
Then I sought to drown my sorrows in the cup that's said to cheer,
But I've fallen lower still, as you may see;
And the only hope that's left me is, that she I hold most dear
Shall not know what wretched fate has come to me.
I shall seek that lowly cottage, there to find one loyal heart
To greet me with a welcome full of joy;
And then from her side, while living, I shall never, never part,
If my mother will forgive her erring boy.- Chorus.