Mother

Oh, I am going home again,     Back to the old house in the lane,     And mother! who still sits and sews,     With cheeks, each one, a winter rose,     A-watching for her boy, you know,     Who left so many years ago,     To face the world, its stress and strain     Oh, I am going home again.     Yes, I am going home once more,     And mother 'll meet me at the door     With smiles that rainbow tears of joy,     And arms that reach out for her boy,     And draw him to her happy breast,     On which awhile his head he 'll rest,     And care no more, if rich or poor,     At home with her, at home once more.     Yes, I am going home to her,     Whose welcome evermore is sure:     I have been thinking, night and day,     How tired I am of being away!     How homesick for her gentle face,     And welcome of the oldtime place,     And memories of the days that were     Oh, I am going home to her.     Oh, just to see her face again     A-smiling at the windowpane!     To see her standing at the door     And offering her arms once more,     As oft she did when, just a child,     She took me to her heart and smiled,     And hushed my cry and cured my pain     I'm going home to her again.