Why gaze ye on my hoary hairs,
Ye children young and gay?
Your locks, beneath the blast of cares,
Will bleach as white as they.

I had a mother once, like you,
Who o'er my pillow hung,
Kiss'd from my cheek the briny dew,
And taught my falt'ring tongue.

She, when the nightly couch was spread,
Would bow my infant knee,
And place her hand upon my head,
And, kneeling, pray for me.

But then there came a fearful day,
I sought my mother's bed,
Till harsh hands tore me thence away,
And told me she was dead.

I pluck'd a fair white rose and stole
To lay it by her side.
And thought strange sleep enchain'd her soul,
For no fond voice replied.

That eve I knelt me down in woe,
And said a lonely prayer;
Yet still my temples seem'd to glow
As if that hand were there.

Years fled, and left me childhood's joy,
Gay sports and pastimes dear;
I rose a wild and wayward boy,
Who scorn'd the curb of fear.

Fierce passions shook me like a reed;
Yet, ere at night I slept,
That soft hand made my bosom bleed,
And down I fell, and wept.

Youth came — the props of virtue reel'd;
But oft, at day's decline,
A marble touch my brow congeal'd—
Blessed mother! was it thine?

In foreign lands I travell'd wide,
My pulse was bounding high,
Vice spread her meshes at my side,
And pleasure lured my eye;

Yet still that hand, so soft and cold,
Maintain'd its mystic sway,
As when, amid my curls of gold,
With gentle force it lay.

And with it breathed a voice of care,
As from the lowly sod,
'My son — my only one — beware!
Nor sin against thy God.'

Ye think, perchance, that age hath stole
My kindly warmth away,
And dimm'd the tablet of the soul:
Yet when, with lordly sway,

This brow the plumed helm display'd
That guides the warrior throng,
Or beauty's thrilling fingers stray'd
These manly locks among;

That hallow'd touch was ne'er forgot!
And now, though time hath set
His frosty seal upon my lot,
These temples feel it yet.

And if I e'er in heaven appear,
A mother's holy prayer,
A mother's hand, and gentle tear,
That pointed to a Saviour dear,
Have led the wand'rer there.