Come back to me, mother! why linger away <br />From thy poor little blind boy, the long weary day! <br />I mark every footstep, I list to each tone, <br />And wonder my mother should leave me alone! <br />But there’s no one to joy or to sorrow with me; <br />For each hath of pleasure and trouble his share, <br />And none for the poor little blind boy will care. <br /> <br />My mother, come back to me! close to thy breast <br />Once more let thy poor little blind one be pressed; <br />Once more let me feel they warm breath on my cheek, <br />And hear thee in accents of tenderness speak! <br />O mother! I’ve no one to love me – no heart <br />Can bear like thine own in my sorrows a part; <br />No hand is so gentle, no voice is so kind, <br />O! none like a mother can cherish the blind! <br /> <br />Poor blind one! No mother thy wailing can hear, <br />No mother can hasten to banish thy fear; <br />And for one paltry dollar hath sold thee, poor child! <br />Ah! who can in language of mortals reveal <br />The anguish that none but a mother can feel, <br />When man is his vile lust of mammon hath trod <br />On her child, who is stricken and smitten of God! <br /> <br />Blind, helpless, forsaken, with strangers alone, <br />She hears in her anguish his piteous moan, <br />As he eagerly listens—but listens in vain, <br />To catch the loved tones of his mother again! <br />The curse of the broken in spirit shall fall <br />On the wretch who hath mingled this wormwood and gall, <br />And his gain like a mildew shall blight and destroy, <br />Who hath torn from his mother the little blind boy!<br /><br />Anonymous Americas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-blind-slave-boy/
