| While strolling a long in the country
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| Reviewing the scenes new and old
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| I found an old fashioned log cabin
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| So beautiful there to be hold
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| A stranger was standing in silence
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| His eyes firmly fixed on the door
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| My heart ached in pity to see him
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| For these were the words that it bore
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| And the sign read «an old cabin for sale
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| An old oaken bucket and well»
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| «Easy terms, just keep a log on the fire
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| And a light burning bright in the dell»
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| Many years an old couple did patiently look
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| For their boy whose last promise did fail
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| Now the old rockin' chair will be rocking no more
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| There’s an old log cabin for sale
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| A welcome I read on the floor mat
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| An old braided rug by the door
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| The hands of an angel had made it
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| With many a pray’r — prayed before
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| In an old rockin' chair, long she waited
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| For one glimpse of him how she yearned
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| And now he was standing in silence
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| Too late, yes, too late he’d returned
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| And the sign read «an old cabin for sale
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| An old oaken bucket and well»
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| «Easy terms, just keep a log on the fire
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| And a light burning bright in the dell»
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| Many years an old couple so patiently looked
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| For their boy whose last promise did fail
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| Now the old rockin' chair will be rocking no more
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| There’s an old log cabin for sale
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| How long has it been since you’ve written
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| A letter to mother and dad?
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| How long has it been since you’ve seen them
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| Why don’t you make their hearts glad?
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| Too soon will the old home be vacant
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| A candle light gleaming no more
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| Don’t wait till too late to remember
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| There may be a sign on the door |