Perhaps Then She’ll Come My Way


Perhaps Then She’ll Come My Way
The wood is stacked long and round,
Beside my house in this quiet town,
My bread I’ll eat again alone,
And leave my mending still unsewn,
I’ll sit and stare as darkness falls,
Thinking about the world that calls,
Long I’ll sit beside the fire,
Until I’m ready to retire,
I’ll stretch out long upon my bed,
And leave my books all unread,
Bleary-eyed and unrested I will awake,
To the silence of downy flake,
But tomorrow is another day,
Perhaps then she’ll come my way,
I’m praying earnestly she’ll come my way.

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