Digital Tradition Mirror

The Blind Child's Prayer

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The Blind Child's Prayer

"They tell me, father, that tonight
You  wed another bride;
That you will clasp her to the arms,
Where my dear mother died.

''They say her name is Mary too,
The name my mother bore.
But, father, is she kind and true
Like the one you loved before?

"Her picture is hanging on the wall;
Her books are lving near;
There is the harp her fingers touched;
There sits her vacant chair,

''The chair by which I've oft times knelt
To say my evening prayer.
O father, do not bid me come;
I cannot meet her there.

''Now let me kneel down by your side
And to our Saviour pray
That God's right hand will lead you both
Through life's long weary way."

The prayer was answered and the song,
"I'm weary now," she said,
He picked her up all in his arms
And laid her on the bed.

And as he turned to leave the room
One joyful cry was given,
He turned and caught the last sweet smile
The blind child was in heaven.

They buried her by her mother's side
And raised a marble fair;
And on it graved the simple words,
"There'll be no blind ones there."

From Folk Songs from the Southern Highlands, Henry
Collected from Mrs. Emory P.Morrow, AL

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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