No Home, No Home
No Home, No Home | |
Stephen Foster, 1862
| No home! no home on my weary way I seek, When laden with grief and care, No voice of love that one gentle word will speak, No lips that will breathe for me a prayer; I wander alone o'er the wide, wide world, In sorrow where'er I roam; But ah! while thro' all its busy scenes I'm hurled, I find for my drooping heart no home, Chorus: I find for my drooping heart no home, No home for my heart, no home. |
2. No home at night with its bright and cheerful hearth, To soften the cares of day, No smiles of joy and familiar sounds of mirth, Beguiling my bitter hours away The mild skies may lend unto me their light, And meadows around me bloom, But, thro' the long and the cheerless hours of night, I find for my drooping heart no home, Chorus: |