Our Willie, dear, is dying
S. Foster
Our Willie, dear, is dying, love,
And thou art far away;
His little breath is sighing, love,
And cannot last till day.
Tonight while sitting by his side
I heard him speak of thee
My father's coming home, he said, with presents bright for me;
My father's coming home, he said, with presents bright for me.
Come with an eagle's flight,
Come like a beam of light,
Come love, come home tonight;
Our Willie dear is dying.
His blooming cheeks have faded, love,
The light has left his brow;
His eyes are dim'd and shaded, love,
You would not know him now.
And when the fever rages,
With a sad and restless moan,
His feeble voice then warns us there is death within that tone;
His feeble voice then warns us there is death within that tone.
Come with an eagle's flight,
Come like a beam of light,
Come love, come home tonight;
Our Willie dear is dying.
No grief that e'er befell me, love,
Could cause this heart such pain;
Though neighbours kindly tell me, Love,
He may get well again.
But a mother's heart is watchful
All the life has left his eyes;
Oh come to night and weep with me before our darling dies
Oh come tonight and weep with me before our darling dies.
Come with an eagle's flight,
Come like a beam of light,
Come love, come home tonight;
Our Willie dear is dying.