He knew in the churchyard under the hill
The most of his household band were laid,
While patiently sad in her lonely home,
His mother waited, and watched, and prayed.
He had been a wild and wayward youth,—
Had wandered alike from home and truth,—
Had recklessly bartered with sin's dark wrong,
Since last he had heard that simple song.
The most of his household band were laid,
While patiently sad in her lonely home,
His mother waited, and watched, and prayed.
He had been a wild and wayward youth,—
Had wandered alike from home and truth,—
Had recklessly bartered with sin's dark wrong,
Since last he had heard that simple song.
And now there seemed in its homely strains,
An inner tone that with pleading voice,
Urged his feet to walk in the homeward way,—
Bade him make that mother's heart rejoice.
It seemed to tell of repentant peace,—
Of a soul at rest through a growing release
From the chain of sin that had bound so long
His life with the saddening powers of wrong.
An inner tone that with pleading voice,
Urged his feet to walk in the homeward way,—
Bade him make that mother's heart rejoice.
It seemed to tell of repentant peace,—
Of a soul at rest through a growing release
From the chain of sin that had bound so long
His life with the saddening powers of wrong.
The baby slept, and household cares
Employed the mother's busy hands,
Rounding to beauty homely ways,
And weaving to fitness tangled strands,—
Little she knew, 'mid her happy thought,
Of the holy mission her song had wrought,—
While the wanderer hastened his homeward way,
With the earnest purpose no more to stray.
Employed the mother's busy hands,
Rounding to beauty homely ways,
And weaving to fitness tangled strands,—
Little she knew, 'mid her happy thought,
Of the holy mission her song had wrought,—
While the wanderer hastened his homeward way,
With the earnest purpose no more to stray.
53
