Though Bleak These Woods, And Damp The Ground, With Fallen Leaves So Thickly Strewn, And Cold The Wind That Wanders Round With Wild And Melancholy 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 Woe, Unheeded Swells The Unbidden Sigh; Though Solitude, Endured Too Long, Bids Youthful Joys Too Soon Decay, Makes Mirth A Stranger To My Tongue, And Overclouds My Noon Of Day; When Kindly 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 Belie; While Mirth And Truth, And Friendship Shine In Smiling Lip And Earnest Eye. The Ice That Gathers Round My Heart May There Be Thawed; 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 Remains To Me, My Heart Shall Never Know Despair.