282 THE IRRIGATION AGL. 



We went away and left them alone. 

 Yes, all alone were the old folks left 

 In a saddened home, of joys bereft. 

 Lonely they toiled together each day 

 But the home is sold, they're going away. 



Their forms are bent with age and care, 

 Furrowed their cheeks, silvered their hair. 

 Like a storm-tossed ship they drift with the tide, 

 Almost in reach of the other side. 

 Father of mercy, we ask of Thee, 

 Pilot them gently o'er life's rough sea; 

 And, when their stormy voyage is o'er, 

 Anchor them safe on the other shore. 



And now, old home, we say to you 

 A long farewell, a fond adieu. 

 Thy walls will echo never more 

 The songs we sang beloved of yore. 

 No more from distant parts of earth, 

 We'll meet again around thy hearth. 

 No more within thy sacred shrine, 

 Join in the tune of "Auld Lang Syne." 



Written for Greens Fruit Grower by Mrs 

 D. C. Weltner. 



