There's a candle burning brightly,
In the lantern by the door,
To welcome any passer by,
Though the occupants are poor.
A knock comes to the shabby door,
You see the paint has peeled,
For the family spends so many hours,
Working in the fields.
"Come on in and sit a spell,"
A welcome at its best,
To any tired traveller,
In need of a little rest.
Ma hurries 'round to make some tea,
And something light to eat,
While Pa sits in his worn out chair,
With children at his feet.
The fire in the cook stove,
It crackles as it burns,
As a youngster snuggles on Pa's knee,
Each one will get a turn.
The children sit in wonder,
As the traveller starts to talk,
And tells them of the things he's seen,
On his never ending walk.
He tells them of the circus,
The animals and clowns,
Of how the band begins to play,
When the circus comes to town.
Well the children are so sleepy,
It's up again at dawn,
Say "so long" to our traveling friend,
For tomorrow he'll be gone.
By Gwen Murray