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88 SONGS FROM THE ST. LAWRENCE. |
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THE MEMORY OF HOME.
' So passionately and deep does it steal over my heart," observed a friend, "that often, often, when away among strangers, have I wept when the dusk of evening came on."
Beside the stranger's hearth I wept, When twilight through the lattice crept; For with each softening shade of gloom, There stole a tender thought of home.
I saw again that fire-side bright, All glowing in affection's light; |
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A father's reverend form was there, I heard once more his voice in prayer. • |
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Brothers and sisters circled round, In ties of sacred sweetness bound—-A happy group at close of day, My thoughts were with them far away.
My mother's song at twilight hour Came with its soft, subduing power, A hallowing influence round me fell, I wept with feelings none may tell.
Sweet home! thy memories, fondly deep, Within the heart their vigils keep, Forever haunting with their tone The banished exile's pathway lone. |
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