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| 1 I’d like to be a child again from care and sorrow free, And in my dreams those happy hours I oft can plainly see; I’d like to see my mother stand within the cottage door, And hear her sweetly call to me as in those days of yore. Refrain: “My child, ‘tis growing dark, I’d rather you’d come in,” O memory so sweet that lives in spite of sin, And then I see her stand within the open door; I’d give the world if I could hear My mother’s voice once more. 2 And oft in sorrow’s chast’ning hour her voice I seem to hear, Amid the shadows of my grief it comes so sweet and clear; “For he shall dwell in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee,” How often has my mother said those blessed words to me. [Refrain] 3 Time’s changes never can remove her face from mem’ry’s walls, Nor hush the sweetness of her voice that mem’ry oft recalls; And heaven’s joys shall be more bright, its bliss beyond compare, When I shall stand before the throne and meet my mother there. [Refrain] | New Songs of Pentecost No. 3 #29 (1918) |
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