To cherish her who made thee blest. But now, to thee no more appears But now, to thee no more appears This light of thy declining years; This light of thy declining years; No more her smile brings joy to thee, No more her smile brings joy to thee, When tempest toss'd on life's rough sea. When tempest toss'd on life's rough sea. Fond mother, where's the rosy child Fond mother, where's the rosy child Which once upon thy bosom smiled?— Which once upon thy bosom smiled?—