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Poor Old Mother

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Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Aug 6, 1912

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 39, No. 30.

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Poor Old Mother

By George Willard

By George Willard
Poor old mother's weeping, Weeping for her boy. Once he was her blessing, Once he was her joy. Now he's gone to drinking, Shame at last has come To his poor old mother, To his happy home.
Often I can hear her Praying for her child, Asking God for wisdom To guide her boy so wild. "O my precious Saviour," I can hear her say, "Listen to me, Jesus, Save my boy, I pray.
"O my blessed Father, You have power to save My dear boy from ruin, From a drunkard's grave." I can see her kneeling By her bedside there. How her heart is aching As she breathes this prayer!
O my poor old mother, If I but had the power To make your sad heart happy Just for a single hour, I'd freely give up anything, No matter what the cost; I'd even gladly give my life, And then not count it lost.