In a lonely church­yard, ma­ny miles away,
Lies your dear old mo­ther, ’neath the cold, cold clay;
Mem’ries oft re­turn­ing of her tears and sighs,
If you love your mo­ther, meet her in the skies.

Refrain

Listen to her plead­ing, Wan­d’ring boy, come home,
Lovingly, en­treat­ing, do not long­er roam;
Let your man­hood wak­en, heav’n­ward lift your eyes;
If you love your mo­ther, meet her in the skies.

Now the old home, va­cant, has no charms for you;
One dear form is ab­sent, mo­ther, kind and true;
Evermore she dwells where plea­sure ne­ver dies,
If you love your mo­ther, meet her in the skies.

Refrain

Now in true re­pent­ance to the Sav­ior flee,
He who par­doned mo­ther, mer­cy has for thee;
Now He waits to com­fort, He will not des­pise,
If you love your mo­ther, meet her in the skies.

Refrain