Home is not home when thou art gone!
My heart in blindness seems to grope;
Where love's accustomed light has shone
'Tis dark as disappointed hope
When thou art gone
The oft appeal, the quick reply
Still more, maybe, the silent sense
Of sympathy, when thou art by
These, these are Home!
And they are hence
When thou art gone
My heart in blindness seems to grope;
Where love's accustomed light has shone
'Tis dark as disappointed hope
When thou art gone
The oft appeal, the quick reply
Still more, maybe, the silent sense
Of sympathy, when thou art by
These, these are Home!
And they are hence
When thou art gone
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