My Childhood's Home

There may be lands more fair than mine,
With skies of cloudless blue,
Where morning's dewdrops brighter shine
On flowers of deeper hue,
Which I might see were I to roam
Afar from thee, my childhood's home.

But while beneath this cloud-fleck'd sky
The rose and violet bloom.
And load each breeze that wanders by
With freights of rich perfume,
Tve joys I prize too much to roam
Afar from thee, my childhood's home.

There may be lands beyond the main
Where lofty mountains rise.
While over forest, lake, aud plain,
The soaring eagle flies.
Which I might see were I to roam
Afar from thee, my childhood's home.

But while the hills around me raise
Their wooded slopes on high.
Where wild birds strive, in joyous lays,
Each other to outvie,
I've joys I prize too much to roam
Afar from thee, my childhood's home.

When We Were Young At Home

I'm growing old, I'm growing old,
My hair is ting'd with gray ;
In search of pleasure, fame, and gold,
I've worn my life away ;
And standing on a foreign shore,
I gaze o'er ocean's foam.
And ponder on the days of yore,
When we were young at home.

I see again, in Fancy's realm,
The homestead by the gorge,
And, down below the ivied elm,
I hear the roaring forge ;
While fondly on the hilla I gaze
O'er which we used to roam.
In buoyant youth's unclouded days.
When we were young at home.

I see again the old fireside,
Where tale, and dance, and tune.
Made winter's long dark ereniaga glide
Away from us too soon ;
And hear the old familiar lays
Come floating o'er the foam,
My siflters sang in bygone days,
When we were young at home.

And could I but recall youth's time.
Bring back its joys anew,
I would not leave my native clime
Such phantoms to pursue ;
For in a long and gay career.
Beyond the ocean's foam,
My heart has known no joys so dear,
Aa those it knew at home.