1 Mother, I am tired, let me slumber,
Lay my aching head upon your breast;
You are weeping, and you look so somber,
Mother, do not weep, I love you best.
2 Here it's cold, without the wind is blowing,
But in sleep I dream the sweetest things;
Heaven opens and I see them flowing,
Angels soaring on their snowy wings.
3 Mother, look! An angel here is standing;
Listen, hear the music! Oh, how sweet!
See the flowers he to you is handing,
See them falling all around your feet!
4 Lo, how snowy-white his wings are shining,
Even brighter than the sun-lit sky,
Gold and pearls I see his garment lining;
Shall I have my wings before I die?
5 Mother dear, your eyes from me are turning!
Lay your cheek on mine, O mother, do,
It is wet and, like a fire, it's burning,
Mother, I will always be with you.
6 But, O mother, do not look so somber,
And your tears it hurts me so to see;
I am tired, and I wish to slumber,
Oh, the angel now is kissing me!
Source: Hymnal for Church and Home (2nd ed.) #392