Little Grey Home in the West

When the golden sun sinks in the hill and the toil of a long day is o'er, though the road may be long in the lilt of a song I

forget I was weary before.

Far ahead where the blue shadows fall I shall come to contentment at last. In the calm of the dusk, weary woe

shall melt away

in my little grey home in the west.

There are hands that will welcome me in. There are lips I am burning to kiss. There are two eyes that shine just beyond the ninth line, and a thousand

things I hold within.

'Tis a corner of heaven itself that is only a hundred miles from earth. There 'twill all grow still. Why, no grief can come there. With my little grey home

in the west.