And slowly winding up the road
The wane has reached the old barn-floor,
Where plenty's hand has firmly heaped
The golden grain in richest store.
This 'mid the dream-land of my thoughts
With smiling lip I own is real,
Yet fancy's fairest visions blend
With all I see, and all I feel.
Then tell me not of worldly pride
And wild ambition's hopes of fame,
Or brilliant halls of wealth and pride,
Where genius sighs to win a name;
Give me this farm-house quaint and old,
These fields of grain, the birds and flowers,
With calm contentment, peace and health,
And memories of my earlier hours.
"'TIS HOME WHERE THE HEART IS."
WORDS BY MISS L. M. BROWN.
MUSIC COMPOSED BY KARL W. PETERSILIE,
Professor of Music at the Edgeworth Seminary, N. C.
Presented by George Willig, No. 171 Chesnut Street, Philad'a. [Copyright secured.]
