From The Detroit Times, March 28, 1913.
 

 Backward, turn backward, Oh time, in your flight;
 Make me a child again just for tonight!
 Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
 Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
 Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;
 Rock me to sleep, mother; rock me to sleep.
 
 Backward, flow backward, Oh tide of the years!
 I am so weary of toil and of tears;
 Toil without recompense, tears all in vain—
 Take them and give me my childhood again!
 I have grown weary of dust and decay,
 Weary of flinging my soul wealth away,
 Weary of sowing for others to reap—
 Rock me to sleep, mother; rock me to sleep.
 
 Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
 Mother, Oh mother! My heart calls for you.
 Many a summer the grass has grown green,
 Blossomed and faded, our faces between
 Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,
 Long I tonight for your presence again.
 Come from the silence so long and so deep—
 Rock me to sleep, mother; rock me to sleep.