Words & Music: , in The Fount­ain of Song, 1877.

A wi­dowed lady of cul­ture, about for­ty years of age, who was an ac­comp­lished vo­cal­ist, had ceased to sing, though her sweet voice was still in its prime. The cause was her sor­row for her run­a­way boy. She had not heard from him for five years. While spend­ing a week with friends in a ci­ty dis­tant from home, her hid­den tal­ent was be­trayed by the friends to the pas­tor of their church, where a re­viv­al was in pro­gress, and per­su­asion that seemed to put a du­ty up­on her fin­al­ly pro­cured her con­sent to sing a so­lo.

The church was crowd­ed. With a force and feel­ing that can be ea­si­ly guessed she sang “Where Is My Boy Tonight?” and fin­ished the first stan­za. She be­gan the second…and as the con­gre­ga­tion caught up the re­frain…a young man who had been sit­ting in a back seat made his way up the aisle and sobbed, “Mo­ther, I’m here!” The em­brace of that mo­ther and her long-lost boy turned the se­rvice into a gen­er­al hal­le­lu­jah. At the in­quiry meet­ing that night there were ma­ny souls at the Me­rcy Seat who ne­ver knelt there be­fore—and the young wan­der­er was one.