Alas, my home is lonely,--
They've parted from my side;
My husband in the church yard's laid,
My daughter is a bride.

She's stood beside the altar,
And breath'd that solemn vow,
From which she may not falter,
Till life is ended now.

But, oh, my home is lonely,--
I miss them by the hearth;
When evening shadows gather 'round,
I miss their social mirth.

I miss the glances of the eye,
The old familiar tone,--
And feel indeed, the widow's home
Is desolate and lone.

And when we gather round the board,
There's each one's vacant chair;
And, oh, I miss them every hour--
And miss them everywhere.

But still there must be changes,
While time is stealing by,
Alternate sun and shadow
Will flit across the sky.