Down home to-night the moonshine falls Across a hill with daisies pied, The pear tree by the garden gate Beckons with white arms like a bride. A savor as of trampled fern Along the whispering meadow stirs, And, beacon of immortal love, A light is shining through the firs. To my old gable window creeps The night wind with a sigh and song, And, weaving ancient sorceries, Thereto the gleeful moonbeams throng Beside the open kitchen door My mother stands all lovingly, And o`er the pathways of the dark She sends a yearning thought to me. It seeks and finds my answering heart Which shall no more be peace-possessed Until I reach her empty arms And lay my head upon her breast.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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