THE OLD FAMILY.
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For the land, the land is still their own, and they may come once more,
To flourish where the ancient stock was wont to thrive of yore.
To flourish where the ancient stock was wont to thrive of yore.
We think of them when Spring sends forth the bud upon the bough,
And wish that They could see how well the young woods promise now;
When Autumn brings the harvest round, we wish that They could see
How well the reapers do their work upon the upland lea.
And wish that They could see how well the young woods promise now;
When Autumn brings the harvest round, we wish that They could see
How well the reapers do their work upon the upland lea.
Oh! things have changed with us, with all, since last they went away,
And youthful brows are marked with care, and hair is mixed with grey;
And They will look on many a change, on children grown to men,
But the heart,—the heart will be the same to welcome them again!
And youthful brows are marked with care, and hair is mixed with grey;
And They will look on many a change, on children grown to men,
But the heart,—the heart will be the same to welcome them again!
