Trundle Bed song

Verse 1

As I wandered ’round the homestead, Many a dear familiar spot Brought within my recollection Scenes I’d seemingly forgot; There, the orchard—meadow, yonder— Here the deep, old fashioned well, With its old moss covered bucket, Sent a thrill no tongue can tell.

Verse 2

Tho’ the house was held by strangers All remained the same within; Just as when a child I rambled Up and down, and out and in; To the garret dark ascending— Once a source of childish dread— Peering thro’ the misty cobwebs, Lo! I saw my trundle bed.

Verse 3

While I listen to the music Stealing on in gentle strain, I am carried back to childhood— I am now a child again; ’Tis the hour of my retiring, At the dusky eventide; Near my trundle bed I’m kneeling, As of yore, by mother’s side.

Verse 4

Hands are on my head so loving, As they were in childhood’s days; I, with weary tones, am trying To repeat the words she says; ’Tis a prayer in language simple As a mother’s lips can frame: Father, Thou who art in Heaven, Hallowed, ever, be Thy name.

Verse 5

Prayer is over: to my pillow With a good night! kiss I creep, Scarcely waking while I whisper, Now I lay me down to sleep. Then my mother, o’er me bending, Prays in earnest words, but mild: Hear my prayer, O heavenly Father, Bless, oh, bless, my precious child!

Verse 6

Yet I am but only dreaming: Ne’er I’ll be a child again; Many years has that dear mother In the quiet churchyard lain; But the memory of her counsels O’er my path a light has shed, Daily calling me to Heaven, Even from my trundle bed.