"Giving up three for one!"—mother,
You said in the long ago,
When father, yourself, and John, mother,
I left, o'er the deep to go.
"Giving up three for one!"—mother,
You said, and it sank in my heart;
For tho' strong was my love for the one, mother,
It was hard from the three to part.
But to-day, as I sit alone, mother,
Rocking my little one's bed—
(Not Winnie's bed, dear, but her brother's—)
I am thinking of what you said;
And a sweet thought glads my heart, mother—
Can you guess what the thought can be?
'Tis, that tho' I'd but one in the start, mother,
Yet now I have three for three.
Yes, three for three, my mother,
God is good to your wandering child,
So far from her father and brother,
And you, in this western wild!
And tho' her heart oftentimes yearneth
For its loved ones over the sea,
Yet ever it gratefully turneth
To its home-ties—three for three.
Aye, three for three, sweet mother,
Say, am I not happy to-day?
Tho' something must ever be wanting,
While far from you all away;—
Then thank the dear Lord, my mother,
Who, afar o'er the lonely sea,
Is blessing your absent daughter,
With home ties—three for three!