Poems (Hoffman)/Do They Think of Me at Home?
DO THEY THINK OF ME AT HOME?
When sunset tints the western skiesWith evening's roseate flush,When the woodlands lie in shadowsIn the twilight's deepening hush;When the shadows lengthen round theLowly cot and stately dome,When the toilsome day is over, Do they think of me at home?
Do they think of me, when morningCalls from slumber to awake,When the lark is skimming gailyO'er the bosom of the lake,When the meadows lie serenely'Neath the blue ethereal skies;And the saucy sprightly bluejay Wakes the forest with his cries?
Do they think of me and miss me,In the noontide's glowing heat,When the cottage echoes gailyTo the tread of little feet;When the oriole and warblerSing their merry roundelay;Do they think of me and miss me In the busy, bustling day?
Do they think of me in winter,When the falling of the rainMakes a pattering on the shingles,Trickles down the window-pane;When the low night-winds are whispering,Like some far-off mournful lyre,When they gather in the evening, 'Round a brightly glowing fire?
When the children's merry laughterMakes the cozy home-nest ring;Do they think of me, I wonder,When the evening songs they sing?What is sweeter than that music,When their childish voices raiseIn their songs of flowers and fancies, In their songs of prayer and praise.
Oft I sit beside my window,When the day's long march is o'er,When the waves are slowly creepingO'er the distant ocean's shore;And I wonder as I sit there,In the twilight, all alone,Do they pause amid life's bustle To think of me at home?