Matilda G Thompson

By The Sick Bed of a Child

By the sick bed of her child,
In her cabin lone and drear.
Listening to its ravings wild,
Dropping on it many a tear,
Sat the mother, broken-hearted;
Every hope was in its shroud.
From her husband she'd been parted,
And to earth with grief she's bow'd.
Now within her ear is ringing
Drearily hope's funeral knell,
And the night wind wild is singing
Mournfully, the word farewell.



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