Yet often I go back again
To where the homestead stands;
I gaze in eyes thro’ mists of pain
And clasp old shadow hands;
Kiss Ellen, Bertha and Lurline:
Those pretty children three
May some day read these lines of mine
And all remember me.
Yet often I go back again
To where the homestead stands;
I gaze in eyes thro’ mists of pain
And clasp old shadow hands;
Kiss Ellen, Bertha and Lurline:
Those pretty children three
May some day read these lines of mine
And all remember me.