I can look back over my shoulder,

And I can turn the little hand back,
But I can’t erase passing time,
Or the wrinkles upon my back,

I never believed the day would come,
When leaves, would fall from trees,
And the autumn bell is rung-

When my friends, both young and old
Have faded by my side,
And that treasure box called Life-
Be suddenly, denied,

T’was then my heart was broke,
When wind and hearth and stoke,
Were cold as snowy white,
And desert upon the night,

But just as night does come,
There is light, from the sun!

It warms the hands and heart alike,
This broken heart, un-broke,
Wind and hearth and stoke,
Flame and tender yoke.