THOUGHTS OF HOME.
Copyright, 1894, by Chas. B. Weston.
Words and Music by Chas. B. Weston.
Far, far away, in a land o'er the sea,
Stands an old rustic cottage that's dear unto me-
Where the sweet fragrant vines twined over the door,
Was the home of my childhood, in bright days of yore.
'Twas there, on the grass, I have played, when a boy,
With brother and sister, my heart filled with joy,
And we'd gather at night round the old fireplace,
There mother would sing, with a smile on her face:
"Rock of ages, cleft for me;"
There again I long to be;
And whenever I hear that sweet, loving strain
My thoughts wander back to the old home again.
I'll never forget the words, dear to me,
I learned when a child on my good mother's knee;
She said, "My dear boy, wherever you roam,
You'd ne'er find a place like your own little home."
On cold winter nights, when the fire it burned bright,
We'd gather around-what a beautiful sight!
Some day I'll return to the old home, so neat.
To hear sister play on the organ so sweet:- Chorus.