Always the heart goes home on Christmas Eve... Goes silently across a continent, Or mountains or sea. A heart will leave The glitter of a city street, and sent By something deep and timeless, find the way To a little cottage on a country hill.
And even if the little cottage may Have disappeared, a heart will find it still...
The smile of tenderness upon the faces, The simple words, the arms secure and strong, The sweetness of the well-remembered places...
All these a heart will find and will belong Once more to country hills, however far, And sense the holy presence of the Star.
