Though he has slighted long her love, that love will e’er forgive,
And still receive him in her arms as long as he shall live,
The mother-heart is keeping yet, with hope from day to day,
A pillow for the wanderer, whose feet have gone astray.
Chorus.—There’s a light forever shining,
Within the window-pane,
To guide the weary prodigal,
To home and love again,
A tender welcome waits him,
When at the door he’ll stand,