In the hospital.
149
I wish I had a mug of cold water
From the bottom of that old curb-well.
I wish my mother's face was here alongside,
While I hear that tolling bell!
From the bottom of that old curb-well.
I wish my mother's face was here alongside,
While I hear that tolling bell!
There's a good crop of corn in the meadow,
And the biggest boy a'n't there to hoe;
They'll get in the apples and the pumpkins,
But I've done my last chores below.
And the biggest boy a'n't there to hoe;
They'll get in the apples and the pumpkins,
But I've done my last chores below.
Don't you hear the Norther risin', doctor?
How it yells and hollers, far and wide!
And the moon's a shinin' on that graveyard,—
Hold on! I'm agoin' with the tide.
How it yells and hollers, far and wide!
And the moon's a shinin' on that graveyard,—
Hold on! I'm agoin' with the tide.
