Old Folks at Home
More pleasant seem their own surroundings,
Though quaint and old,
Than newer homes, with their aboundings
Of marble, silk, and gold.
For ’tis the heart inspires home-feelings,
In hut or hall,
Where memory, with its fond revealings,
Sheds a tender light o’er all.
They love the wonted call to meeting,
By their old bell;
They love the old familiar greeting
From friends who know them well.
Their homesick hearts are always yearning,
When they’re away;
And ever is their memory turning
To scenes where they used to stay.
L. M. C.