<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416922" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Where The Children Used To Play</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The old farm-home is Mother's yet and mine,<br>And filled it is with plenty and to spare--,<br>But we are lonely here in life's decline,<br>Though fortune smiles around us everywhere:<br>We look across the gold<br>Of the harvests, as of old--<br>The corn, the fragrant clover, and the hay;<br>But most we turn our gaze,<br>As with eyes of other days,<br>To the orchard where the children used to play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O from our life's full measure<br>And rich hoard of worldly treasure<br>We often turn our weary eyes away,<br>And hand in hand we wander<br>Down the old path winding yonder<br>To the orchard where the children used to play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our sloping pasture-lands are filled with herds;<br>The barn and granary-bins are bulging o'ver;<br>The grove's a paradise of singing birds--<br>The woodland brook leaps laughing by the door;<br>Yet lonely, lonely still,<br>Let us prosper as we will,<br>Our old hearts seem so empty everyway--<br>We can only through a mist<br>See the faces we have kissed<br>In the orchard where the children used to play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O from our life's full measure<br>And rich hoard of worldly treasure<br>We often turn our weary eyes away,<br>And hand in hand we wander<br>Down the old path winding yonder<br>To the orchard where the children used to play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</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=416922" data-title="Where The Children Used To Play de James Whitcomb Riley" data-description="The old farm-home is Mother's yet and mine, And filled it is with plenty and to spare--, But we are lonely here in life's decline, Though fortune smiles around us everywhere: We look across the gold Of the harvests, as of old-- The corn, the fragr..."></div> </div> </div>

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