• Author: Printed By Request
• Editor: B-7413
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume 5
• Page Number:
• Date: 6 28 1916
• Tags:
• poetry
• prison
• mothers

"THE PRISONER'S ADDRESS TO HIS MOTHER." I've wondered far from thee, mother; Far from our happy home. I've left the land that gave me birth, In other lands to roam; And time since then has rolled his years, And marked them on my brow. Yet still I've often thought of thee; I'm thinking of thee now. I'm thinking of those days, mother, When with such earnest pride You watched the dawings of my youth And pressed me to your side; And memory brings thy parting words When tears fell o'er thy cheek, But thy last loving, anxious look Told more than words could speak.I'm far away from thee mother, No kindred near me now To soothe me with a tender work— Or cool my burning brow. The dearest ties affection wove All are now torn from me. They left me when the trouble came, They did not love like thee. I know thy tender heart, mother, Still beats as warm for me As when | left thee long ago To cross the broad deep blue sea. And I love thee just the same, mother, And long to hear thee speak, And feel, once more, thy balmy breath Upon my careworn cheek. And, O! there is a thought, mother, Pervades my beating breast, That thy freed spirit may have flown To its eternal rest. And as I wipe the tears away There wispers in mine ear A voice that speaks of Heaven and thee, And bids me seek thee there. Printed by special request