"The Old Door Stone" (1855)
Song
[(Words? and) Music]
by
I[saac]. B[aker]. Woodbury[, 1819-1858].

Guitar/Piano [Price] 35 Cents
New York: HORACE WATERS, 333 Broadway
Engraved by W. Dutillieul
[Source: 1855-780050@LoC]

1. A song, a song for the old door stone,
  To eve’ry household dear;
That hallowed spot, where joys and griefs,
  Were shared for many a year,
When sank the sun to his daily rest
  When the birds song was o’er
When the toil and care of his passing day
  Annoyed the heart no more;
Then on that loved and time worn spot,
  We gathererd one by one,
And spent the social twilight hour,
  Upon the old door stone.
[REFRAIN]
  Upon the old door stone.
And spent the social twilight hour,
  upon the old door stone.

2. How sweet to me do memories come
  Of merry childhood’s hours,
When we sped blithely through the fields
  In search of budding flowers,
Or gathered berries from the bush
  Or bending greenwood tree,
Or chased the light winged butterfly,
  With pealing sounds of glee.
The freshest hour in memory’s book
  Was spent at set of sun,
My weary head on mother’s knee
  Upon the old door stone.
[REFRAIN]
  Upon the old door stone.
My weary head on mother’s knee
  Upon the old door stone.

3. That mother’s face, that mother’s form,
  Are graven on my heart,
And of life’s holiest memories
  They form the dearest part;
Her counsel and instructions given
  Of friendship, love, and truth,
Have been my guardians and my guides
  Through all the ways of youth,
And yet I seem to hear again
  Each loved and treasured tone,
When infancy set me down
  Upon the old door stone.
[REFRAIN]
  Upon the old door stone.
When infancy set me down
  Upon the old door stone.

4. Long years have passed since mother died
  Yet she is with me still,
Whether a toiler in the vale
  Or wanderer on the hill;
Still with me at my morning care,
  Or evening’s quiet rest,
The guardian angel by my side,
  The kindest and the best;
Ah! mother, now I often strive,
  To catch thy thought and tone,
For those who cluster round my knee,
  Upon the old door stone.
[REFRAIN]
  Upon the old door stone.
For those who cluster round my knee,
  Upon the old door stone.

5. The old door stone, the clustering vine
  Oh, may they long remain
And may the household band that’t left,
  Meet there but once again;
Meet not to ween o’er pleasures past,
  Of canvase joys to come;
Meet to revive the sacred faces,
  Once centered in that home;
A brother and a sister sleep,
  Our parents both are gone;
Oh, it would be a saddened hour
  Upon that old door stone.
[REFRAIN]
  Upon that old door stone.
Oh, it would be a saddened hour
  Upon that old door stone.