Mother ! oh, sing me to rest

Mother! oh, sing me to rest

As in my bright days departed:

Sing to thy child, the sick-hearted,

Songs for a spirit oppress'd.

Lay this tired head on thy breast!

Flowers from the night-dew are closing,

Pilgrims and mourners reposing:

Mother! oh, sing me to rest!

Take back thy bird to its nest!

Weary is young life when blighted,

Heavy this love unrequited;

— Mother, oh! sing me to rest!