The silence resonates through the home,
The soft ticking of the clock
The faint smell of woodsmoke fills the air
At the fireplace, a single sock.

My memories of Christmas past
When the family was boisterous and large,
Before the War Between the States,
Before the day of the fateful charge.

My six fine sons and husband, dear
Are soldiering far away
Gone for duty, honor, and Country
Their convictions firmly held sway.

These wee small hours I lie awake
Aching for them to come home.
This Christmas morning's hope and prayer
Is that they will never more roam.

No word of them to rest my heart,
No familiar faces to see,
A fervent Yuletide Christmas wish
To bring them back to me.

I hear a sound through crisp, clear air
Through dead and dark of night
I rush to hear, I rush to see
But not a soul in sight.

The lone, bright star begins to shine
To light the way to me
My big strong men are marching home
Their voices clear and free.

Candles lit to guide them on,
The lamps are shining bright,
Joyful reunion, grateful hearts,
Are gathering this Christmas night.