Prairie Flowers
No. 6
"Mother, I Am Weary" [1858]
As sung by
W[illia]m. Hayward
of the N[ew]. E[ngland]. Bards.
Words by
Mrs. S. E. Daws
Music by
J[ospph[. P[hilbrick]. Webster [1819-1875]

Chicago, IL: HIGGINS BROTHERS
Stacpole, Sc.
Pearson, Engrv.
[Source: @Newberry Library, Chicago]

A correspondent of the Elmira Republican says:--
That iin a recent trip over the Erie road, an incident occured
that touched every beholders heart with pity. A compa-
ritively young lady dressed in deep mourning-- her hus-
band having recently died-- was travelling southward,
having in her care and keeping a young daughter of
some six years.  The little girl was mild eyed as an
autumnal sky, and as delicate as the Hyacinth, her ema-
ciated fingers as delicate and transparent as the pearls of
Ceylon.  Touchingly beautiful was the affection of her
heart for the mother, whose soliciude for the daughter's
comfort was unceasingly manifested.  Looking eve and
anon from the car window, she turned to her miother--
saying, "Mother I an weary, when shall we get home?"
Afteratime she fell into a gentle slumber and awakening 
suddenly, a radiant smile o'erspread her features, she 
exclaimed, pointing upward--
"Mother, tthere,s Papa! home, at last"- and expired.


1. Oh! mother, I am weary, I would lean upon your breast,
For my head is aching sadly, And I long to be at rest.
And tell me, are we near? Shall we see our home today?
For mother, I am weary, I am weary of the way. 

2. I would see it once again, for the skies look brighter there,
And I fancy I could breathe more freely in the air.
’Tis the dearest spot I know, I love its cherished name,
I wander, mother darling, if its loking just the same.

3. It is not hidden now by its summer veil of leaves,
And looking yonder, mother, do you see it through the trees?
Our journey has been long and I would cease to roam,
For mother, I am weary, I am weary for my home.

4. I see it, darling mother, I see your cheering smile,
Ans now my weary eyes, I will close them for a while,
And fold me closer mother, still closer to thy heart,
For something tells me, mother, that you and I must part.

5. The little maided slept, and o’er her brow of snow
There gathered in her slumber, a bright celestial glow,
And a radient smile of love o’er her little features stole,
And through her waking eyes beamed forth her happy soul.

6. O mother, he is coming, I see my dear papa!
His wings are like the angels, and his face is like a star,
He is holding out his arms, the weary hours are past,
To a fairy world I’m going, I have found my home at last.