Do they miss me at home, do they miss me?
'Twould be an assurance most dear,
To know that this moment some loved one
Were saying, "I wish he were here;"
To feel that the group at the fireside
Were thinking of me as I roam,
Oh yes, 'twould be joy beyond measure,
To know that they missed me at home
To know that they missed me at home.
When twilight approaches, the season
That ever is sacred to song;
Does someone repeat my name over,
And sigh that I tarry so long?
And is there a chord in the music,
That's missed when my voice is away,
And a chord in each heart that awaketh
Regret at my wearysome stay?
Regret at my wearysome stay?
Do they set me a chair near the table
When evening's home pleasures are nigh,
When the candles are lit in the parlor,
And the stars in the calm azure sky?
And when the "good nights" are repeated,
And all lay them down to their sleep,
Do they think of the absent, and waft me
A whispered "good night" while they weep?
A whispered "good night" while they weep?
Do they miss me at home -- do they miss me,
At morning, at noon, or at night?
And lingers one gloomy shade round them
That only my presence can light?
Are joys less invitingly welcome,
And pleasures less hale than before,
Because one is missed from the circle,
Because I am with them no more?
Because I am with them no more?
