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Text
Our Little Home
source:
Frederic Weatherly
Some day when we are tired
Of houses grand and tall,
I think we'll find a little house,
Where only songbirds call;
A little house in the forest,
Where trees make gentle moan,
And we'll dwell there,
and we'll dream there,
In our little house alone!
You and I dear, you and I dear,
In our little house alone!
We'll plant a tiny garden
With the flowers we loved for yore,
And only little happy ghosts
Shall pass within the door;
And Time with loving finger
Shall touch the dialstone
And we'll dwell there,
and we'll dream there
In our little house alone!
You and I dear, you and I dear,
In our little house alone!
Of houses grand and tall,
I think we'll find a little house,
Where only songbirds call;
A little house in the forest,
Where trees make gentle moan,
And we'll dwell there,
and we'll dream there,
In our little house alone!
You and I dear, you and I dear,
In our little house alone!
We'll plant a tiny garden
With the flowers we loved for yore,
And only little happy ghosts
Shall pass within the door;
And Time with loving finger
Shall touch the dialstone
And we'll dwell there,
and we'll dream there
In our little house alone!
You and I dear, you and I dear,
In our little house alone!
Composer
Poet
Frederic Weatherly
Frederic Edward Weatherly (1848 - 1929) was an English lawyer, author, lyricist and broadcaster.