1
The morning was fair and friends had gathered
To bid me a long good-bye, and as I kissed my dear old mother
A startling tear stood in my eye,
She gave me a lock of her dear hair,
With that fond lock I will never part.
It was my mother's gift to me, for ever I will wear it next to my heart.
2
Home was once a happy place,
Till poverty also came there,
To see my mother dear in sorrow,
That dreadful sight I could not bear,
For her I left my native land,
I will kneel and pray for her at sea,
And when the silver moon is shining,
I will gaze on her dear gift to me.
3
When I return she may be sleeping,
with my father in his grave,