And when I wander'd far, thy earnest call
Restored my soul from sin's deceitful thrall.
I have been bless'd with other ties—
Fond ties and true; yet never deem
That I the less thy fondness prize;
No, mother! in my warmest dream
Of answer'd passion, through this heart of mine One chord will vibrate to no name but thine.
Mother, thy name is widow. Well
I know no love of mine can fill
The waste place of thy heart, or dwell
Within one sacred recess; still,
Lean on the faithful bosom of thy son,
My parent-thou art mine, my only one!