I've been thinking of the day, which has long since passed away
When my mother thorough sickness, drooped and died
In the quiet and silent room, when they laid her in the tomb
I remember then how bitterly I cried
I was a boy, then, my age was scarcely ten
Through sorrow I had grown thin and pale
When the home had to be sold, I cried with grief untold
Oh, save my mother's picture from the sale
The table where I played, the cot on which I laid
All passed away like chaff before the wind
But when the end came near, I cried with piteous tear
Oh, save my mother's picture from the sale
My mother's face, her dear old face
Whose loss I ever shall bewail
Don't break an orphan's heart, with this don't make me part
Oh, save my mother's picture from the sale
The picture round was passed and questions they were asked
A price for it was bid, just here and there
The tears streamed down my face, I could scarcely keep my place
When I saw the picture pass without a care
But an angel of a girl, with a mass of golden curls
Who was struck to see my face so sad and pale
Out bid them all your see, and presented it to me
And saved my mother's picture from the sale