[1613]
"Come back to me Mother
or
The Blind Slave Boy['] Call." [22 Nov 1865]
[Words--anonymous.]
Composed by
A. J. Abbey.

Chicago, IL: H. M. HIGGINS, 117 Randolph St.
[28985]
[COPYRIGHT
 Nov 22 1865
LIBRARY]
[M 1640
  .A]
[Source:1865-200000803@LoC/IHAS-CWM]

1. Come back to me mother, why linger away,
From thy poor little blind boy, the long weary day;
I mark ev’ry footstep, I list to each tone,
And wonder my mother, should leave me alone;
There are voices of sorrow, and voices of glee,
But there’s no one to joy or to sorrow with me;
For each hath of pleasure and trouble his share,
And none for the poor little slave boy will care.

2. My mother come back to me, close to thy breast,
Once more let thy poor little blind boy be press’d,
Once more let me feel thy warm breath on my cheek,
And hear thee in accent of tenderness speak;
Oh, mother! I’ve no one to love me, no heart
Can bear like thine own in my sorrows a part;
No head is so gentle, no voice is so kind,
Oh! none like a mother, can chersh the blind!

3. Poor blind one! no mother, thy wailing can hear,
No mother can hasten to banish thy fear;
For the slaveowner drives her o’er mountain and wild,
And for one paltry dollar hath sold thee, poor child.
Ah! who can in language of mortal reveal,
The anguish that none, but a mother can feel,
When man in his vile lust for mammon hath trod,
On her child who is stricken, and smitten of God!

4. Blind, helpless, forsaken, with strangers alone,
She hears in her angish, his piteous moan;
As he eagerly listens, but listens in vain,
To catch the lov’d tones of his mother aagain.
The blessing of heaven— say can it e’er fall
On him who hath mingled the wormwood and gall?
No, his gain like a mildew must blight and destroy,
Who has torn from his mother, the little blind boy!