do they miss me at home, do they miss me?
     'twould be an assurance most dear
to know at this moment some loved one
     were saying, "i wish he was here."
to feel that the group at the fireside
     were thinking of me as i roam.
oh, yes, 'twould be a joy beyond measure
     to know that they missed me at home
     to know that they missed me at home.

when twilight approaches the season
     that ever is sacred to song
does someone repeat my name over,
     and sigh that i tarry so long!
and is there a chord in the music
     that's missed when any voice is away
and a chord in each heart that awaketh
     regret at my wearisome stay
     regret at my wearisome stay.

do they sit me a chair near the table,
     when ev'ning's home pleasures are nigh,
when the candles are lit in the parlor,
     and the stars in the calm azure sky?
and when the "good nights" are repeated,
     and all lay them down to their sleep,
do they think of the absent, and wish me
     a whispered "good night" while they sleep
     a whispered "good night" while they sleep.

do they miss me at home, do they miss me?
     at morning, at noon, or at night?
and lingers one gloomy shade 'round them,
     that only my presence can light?
are joys less invitingly welcome
     and pleasures less hale than before,
because one is miss'd from the circle,
     because i am with them no more
     because i am with them no more.