Oh, friends! my heart went forth
To you with a yearning cry,
To be taken back to my native North--
To be taken home to die.
For sweeter than southern suns,
Or the blossoms of summer lands,
Are the faces of my little ones,
And the touch of their tender hands.

Come closer to my side,
Your eyes are as clear and true
As if they were stars my way to guide,
My darlings, back to you.
Oh God! my heart is stirred
With thankfulness and rest,
To reach at last, like a wounded bird,
The shelter of its nest

Oh, faint pulse, throbbing long!
And weary and fluttering breath,
Twas the mother-love that kept you strong,
Though face to face with death.
But now my eyes are dim,
And my breath comes weak and slow,
Sing to me softly the evening hymn,
And kiss me ere I go.

Come close for the angel waits--
The angel with gentle hand,
To open for me the shadowy gates,