<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391024" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Homestead</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">JEST as atween the awk'ard lines a hand we love has penn'd<br>Appears a meanin' hid from other eyes,<br>So, in your simple, homespun art, old honest Yankee friend,<br>A power o' tearful, sweet seggestion lies.<br>We see it all--the pictur' that our mem'ries hold so dear--<br>The homestead in New England far away,<br>An' the vision is so nat'ral-like we almost seem to hear<br>The voices that were heshed but yesterday.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, who'd ha' thought the music of that distant childhood time<br>Would sleep through all the changeful, bitter years<br>To waken into melodies like Chris'mas bells a-chime<br>An' to claim the ready tribute of our tears!<br>Why, the robins in the maples an' the blackbirds round the pond,<br>The crickets an' the locusts in the leaves,<br>The brook that chased the trout adown the hillside just beyond,<br>An' the swallers in their nests beneath the eaves--<br>They all come troopin' back with you, dear Uncle Josh, to-day,<br>An' they seem to sing with all the joyous zest<br>Of the days when we were Yankee boys an' Yankee girls at play,<br>With nary thought of 'livin' way out West'!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">God bless ye, Denman Thomps'n, for the good y' do our hearts,<br>With this music an' these memories o' youth--<br>God bless ye for the faculty that tops all human arts,<br>The good ol' Yankee faculty of Truth!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Eugene+Field">Eugene Field</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391024" data-title="The Old Homestead de Eugene Field" data-description="JEST as atween the awk'ard lines a hand we love has penn'd Appears a meanin' hid from other eyes, So, in your simple, homespun art, old honest Yankee friend, A power o' tearful, sweet seggestion lies. We see it all--the pictur' that our mem'ries h..."></div> </div> </div>

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