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.