 | Poems by George P. Morris |  |
WELCOME HOME.
My Mary's voice!—It is the hour
She promised to be here:
Taught by love's mysterious power,
I know that she is near.
I hear the melody she sings
Beneath our happy dome,
And now the woodland cheerly rings
With Mary's welcome home.
She promised to be here:
Taught by love's mysterious power,
I know that she is near.
I hear the melody she sings
Beneath our happy dome,
And now the woodland cheerly rings
With Mary's welcome home.
235
My Mary's voice!—I hear it thrill
In rapture on the gale,
As she comes gliding down the hill
To meet me in the vale.
In all the world, on land or sea,
Where'er I chance to roam,
No music is so sweet to me
As Mary's welcome home.
In rapture on the gale,
As she comes gliding down the hill
To meet me in the vale.
In all the world, on land or sea,
Where'er I chance to roam,
No music is so sweet to me
As Mary's welcome home.
| Poems by George P. Morris | |