My mother's kiss, my mother's kiss, br I feel its impress now; br As in the bright and happy days br She pressed it on my brow. br br You say it is a fancied thing br Within my memory fraught; br To me it has a sacred place- br The treasure house of thought. br br Again, I feel her fingers glide br Amid my clustering hair; br I see the love-light in her eyes, br When all my life was fair. br br Again, I hear her gentle voice br In warning or in love. br How precious was the faith that taught br My soul of things above. br br The music of her voice is stilled, br Her lips are paled in death. br As precious pearls I'll clasp her words br Until my latest breath. br br The world has scattered round my path br Honor and wealth and fame; br But naught so precious as the thoughts br That gather round her name. br br And friends have placed upon my brow br The laurels of renown; br But she first taught me how to wear br My manhood as a crown. br br My hair is silvered o'er with age, br I'm longing to depart; br To clasp again my mother's hand, br And be a child at heart. br br To roam with her the glory-land br Where saints and angels greet; br To cast our crowns with songs of love br At our Redeemer's feet.