Old Time Melody
I’m pining away for the way I’d go,
I’m pining away for the things I’ve seen,
For the joy of the fall of the first white snow,
And the sweep of the forest green.
But it’s not for the home-land, broad and fair;
The house on the hill, or the old ways spread;—
For why should I wander here or there,
Since you went down to the dead?
I’m pining away for the love you gave,
For the world that you made, when your life lay here.
And the path to the country beyond the grave
Is the way that I pine for, dear!