And brothers, sisters, scattered wide,
Come home again at even-tide.
HOME-SICKNESS.
I know not what the reason is:
Where’er I dwell or roam,
I make a pilgrimage each year,
And brothers, sisters, scattered wide,
Come home again at even-tide.
I know not what the reason is:
Where’er I dwell or roam,
I make a pilgrimage each year,