What though our leaves will fade and fall.
And chilling north winds blow,
And all New England's hills and vales,
Lie buried deep in snow!

Snug dwellings and warm clothing still
Have power to keep us warm,--
We sit around the fireside then,
And smile to hear the storm.

Come, with thy partner, to that home
Which once he called his own,
Which his long absence oft has made
Most desolate and lone.

Welcome, twice welcome thou shalt be,
Yes, welcome as his bride;
Welcome, I trust, for virtues too,
Which in thy heart abide.

Come, see the grateful tears of joy
Stand trembling in the eye
Of those, who never can forget
The lost one, till they die.

Come, feel the deep impassioned grasp
Of each extended hand,
Which welcomes that lost wanderer back
To his dear native land.