Little flame,
A candle on the mantle,
Little light
In the night,
Shining hopes for the finding,
Of someday,
The lost way,
It burns to show the return,
It is done
Till he comes,
Small flame burning clear and plain,
Hopes that ride,
On light to guide through the night.

Burning in the fireplace,
Flames are dancing on the wood,
A warmth upon a sad face,
Shedding tears that do no good.

A stray wind, that rushes in
Fans the flame, flickering lights,
Candle ends, a wisp of smoke,
Wind to strong, it's burnt too long,
Back to bed, where lonely spent are nights,
There's no flames, no hope remains.