It Was My Mother's Choice

H. DE MARSAN. DEALER IN SONGS TOY BOOKS & c. No. 54 CHATHAM. N.Y.

It was my Mother’s Choice.

Oh! Mother dear, I had a drink,
So soft and yet so bright
When, wounded on the battle-plain,
I lay dead-drunk, at night:
A gentle stream fell on my lips,
Like Benzine.. but ’twas worse..
A Bourbon sour, it seemed to me:
It was my Mother’s choice.

In years gone by, when a hunkey boy,
A sport so gay and wild
Dear Mother, when you made a choice,
You checked your way ward child;
When trouble in the house I made,
I heard your blessed voice
To order me an Oyster-stew:
It was my Mother’s choice!

Old women dear! Though far away,
And with a Cobler slain,
If you but heard my earnest prayer:
We soon shall meet again
To see Old sports at home, once more,
And hear my Mother’s voice.
So, prepare me a brandy-smash
Dear Mother, that’s my choice!

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