No matter where my soul shall rest, I must return to look upon your face; So long as love is openly confessed Upon your features where its signs I trace, I will come home to you.
But should these emblems wear away, Of that bright light I lived to see, And your dear features fail to signal me To feast upon your smile, by night by day, I will not come again.
Anna M. Johnson's "Coming Home" is a short vow with a condition attached. The speaker promises to return to a loved one, wherever their soul may be, but only as long as that person's face still shows love. The "signs" of affection are something the speaker reads there, like a message written in the features. As long as that message is clear, home is certain.
The second stanza turns the promise around. If those "emblems" fade, and the face no longer gives off the "bright light" the speaker once lived to see, the return will not happen. The final line is blunt: "I will not come again."
What makes the poem interesting is how much weight it puts on one face. Home here is a person's expression, not a place. The mood is tender but also a little guarded, a love that is sincere yet openly conditional, quietly asking the other person to keep that light burning.