Though bleak these woods,
and damp the ground,
With fallen leaves so thickly
strewn,
And cold the wind that wanders
round
With wild and melancholy
moan;
There is a friendly roof
I know,
Might shield me from the
wintry blast;
There is a fire whose ruddy
glow
Will cheer me for my wanderings
past.
And so, though still where'er
I go
Cold stranger glances meet
my eye;
Though, when my spirit sinks
in woe,
Unheeded swells the unbidden
sigh;
Though solitude, endured
too long,
Bids youthful joys too soon
decay,
Makes mirth a stranger to
my tongue,
And overclouds my noon of
day;
When kindly thoughts that
would have way
Flow back, discouraged,
to my breast,
I know there is, though
far away,
A home where heart and soul
may rest.
Warm hands are there, that,
clasped in mine,
The warmer heart will not
belie;
While mirth and truth, and
friendship shine
In smiling lip and earnest
eye.
The ice that gathers round
my heart
May there be thawed; and
sweetly, then,
The joys of youth, that
now depart,
Will come to cheer my soul
again.
Though far I roam, that thought
shall be
My hope, my comfort everywhere;
While such a home remains
to me,
My heart shall never know
despair.
