First Line: As I wandered round the homestead,

As I wandered round the homestead,
Many a dear familiar spot
Brought within my recollection
Scenes I'd seemingly forgot;
There, the orchard — meadow, yonder —
Here, the deep, old-fashioned well,
With its old moss-covered bucket,
Sent a thrill no tongue can tell.

2 Though the house was held by strangers,
All remained the same within;
Just as when a child I rambled
Up and down, and out and in ;
To the garret dark ascending —
Once a source of childish dread —
Peering through the misty cobwebs,
Lo ! I saw my cradle bed.

3 Quick I drew it from the rubbish
Covered o'er with dust so long :
When, behold, I heard in fancy
Strains of one familiar song,
Often sung by my dear mother
To me in that cradle bed :
Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber !
Holy angels guard thy bed !

4 While I listen to the music

Stealing on in gentle strain,
I am carried back to childhood —
I am now a child again :
'Tis the hour of my retiring,
At the dusky eventide ;
Near my cradle bed I'm kneeling,
As of yore, by mother's side.

5 Hands are on my head so loving,
As they were in childhood's days;
I, with weary tones, am trying
To repeat the words she says ;
'Tis a prayer in language simple
As a mother's lips can frame :
Father, Thou who art in heaven,
Hallowed, ever, be Thy name.

6 Prayer is over : to my pillow
With a good-night kiss I creep,
Scarcely waking while I whisper,
Now I lay me down to sleep.
Then my mother, o'er me bending,
Prays in earnest words, but mild :
Hear my prayer, O heavenly Father,
Bless, oh bless, my precious child !

7 Yet I am but only dreaming :
Ne'er I'll be a child again ;
Many years has that dear mother
In the quiet graveyard lain ;
But her blessed angel spirit
Daily hovers o'er my head,
Calling me from earth to heaven,
Even from my cradle bed.