Dying Californian

print

Lay up nearer brother nearer
For my limbs are growing cold
And thy presence seemeth dearer
When thine arms around me fold

I am dying brother dying
Soon you`ll miss me in your berth
For my form will soon be lying
`Neath the ocean`s briny surf

Tell my father when you see him
That in death I prayed for him
Prayed that I might only meet him
In a world that`s free from sin

Tell my mother God assist her
Now that she is growing old
That her child would glad have kissed her
When his lips grew pale and cold

Listen brother catch each whisper
`Tis my wife I speak of now
Tell oh tell her how I miss her
As the fever burns my brow

Tell her she must kiss my children
Like the kiss I last impressed
Hold them as when last I held them
Held them closely to my breast