Though bleak¹ these woods, and damp the ground, With fallen leaves so thickly strewn, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy² moan；

    There is a friendly roof I know, Might shield me from the wintry blast； There is a fire whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past.

    And so, though still where'er I go Cold stranger glances meet my eye； Though, when my spirit sinks in woe³, Unheeded swells⁴ the unbidden sigh；

    Though solitude⁵, endured too long, Bids youthful joys too soon decay, Makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, And overclouds my noon of day；When kindly⁶ thoughts that would have way Flow back, discouraged, to my breast, I know there is, though far away, A home where heart and soul may rest.

    Warm hands are there, that, clasped in mine, The warmer heart will not belie⁷； While mirth and truth, and friendship shine In smiling lip and earnest eye.

    The ice that gathers round my heart May there be thawed⁸； and sweetly, then, The joys of youth, that now depart, Will come to cheer my soul again.

    Though far I roam, that thought shall be My hope, my comfort everywhere； While such a home remains⁹ to me, My heart shall never know despair.