Only a Picture

Only a Picture It was only a picture that hung on the wall, It was only a picture, you see, That changed my poor, wretched life to some good, Just the picture of mother of me. I was headed straight on the same downward road That rough fellows travel, you see; A poor reckless lad when I happened to find The dear picture of mother of me. For years I had gambled and drunk a good deal, And done other bad things for a fee, When I spied one night, in the house of a friend, The sweet picture of mother of me. At first I could scarcely believe my own eyes, And I felt as ashamed as could be, For I knew I wasn't half worthy to gaze On the picture of mother of me. Her eyes seemed so sad, and her lips seemed to move, As if pleading more worthy I'd be, And right there I swore that I'd change my rough course, By the picture of mother of me. It hasn't always been easy to stand So true by that vow, you'll agree, But when I was tempted I'd only to think Of the picture of mother of me. And years now have passed, and I've not worked in vain, — But, dear mother, 'twas only through thee That my life has been changed to real usefulness — Through your picture, oh, mother of me! Mesa, Arizona. Mrs. Ida. R. Alldredge \