Classic Poem

It's a little cot
In a little spot,
With a little heaven has sent,
An' her hand in mine
In rain or shine,
An' I'm goin' my way content.

I'm goin' my way content,
With the blue skies over me bent;
An' the world is right, an' the world is wrong,
But my heart keeps singin' a thankful song.

It's a little way
From that cot each day
In the toilin' world I roam;
But the whole day long
That sweet heart-song,
And a kiss when the stars sing: “Home!”

A kiss for a welcome home,
When the bees are hid in the comb;
An' the world is right, an' the world is wrong,
But Love keeps singin' the same sweet song.

The same sweet song
Where the toilers throng
An' the skies are cold an' gray;
For I hear the beat
Of her heart so sweet,
Callin' me—far away!

Callin' me—far away
To the blooms an' the bells o' May;
An' the world is right, an' the world is wrong,
But her heart keeps singin' that same sweet song.

An' the little cot
In the little spot
Is dearer than domes that rise;
For the day is bright
An' the night is light
With the love in a woman's eyes.

With the love in a woman's eyes—
A love that never dies;
An' the world is right, an' the world is wrong,
But Love keeps singin' the same sweet song.