Sung by: Mrs. Alberta Felts
Recorded in Batesville, AR 8/17/61

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“They tell me, Father, that tonight
You wed another bride,
And that you’ll clasp her in your arms,
Where my dear Mother died,
And that she'll lay her stately head
Upon your manly breast,
Where she who now lies low in death
In her last hours did rest.

They say her name is Mary, too,
The name my mother bore,
But Father, is she kind and true,
Like the one you loved before?
Oh, Father, do not bid me come
To meet your loving bride.
I could not meet her in the room
Where my dear mother died.

Her picture hanging on the wall,
Her books are lying near.
There is the harp her fingers touched,
And there’s her vacant chair,
The chair where by her side I knelt
To say my evening prayer.
Father, do not bid me come;
I could not meet her there.”

Then, as he turned to leave the room,
One joyful cry was given.
He turned to catch that last glad smile,
And his blind child was in Heaven.
They buried her by her mother’s side,
And placed a marble there,
On it ‘scribed the simple words:
“There’ll be no blind ones there.”

Also found in Randolph, Vol. IV, #724, “The Blind Child”; Brown, Vol. II, #149, “The Blind Girl”; Belden, p. 275, “The Blind Child.”

All Songs Recorded by John Quincy Wolf, Jr., unless otherwise noted

The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection
Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas
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