Front:
"The Old Homestead"
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 suggestion lies.
We see it all the pictur' that your mem'ries
hold so dear-
The homestead in New England far away;
And the vision is so nat'ral-like we almost
seem to hear
The voices that were heshed but yesterday.
Ah! who'd ha' thought the music of that distant childhood
time
Would sleep through all the changeful, bitter years
To waken into melodies like Chris'mas bells a-chime
An' to claim the ready tribute of our tears!
Why, the robins in the maples an' the blackbirds 'round
the pond,
The crickets an' the locusts in the leaves,
The brook that chased the trout adown the hillside jest
beyond,
An' the swallers in their nests beneath the eaves-
They all come troopin' back with you, dear
Uncle Josh, to-day,
An' they seem to sing with all the joyous
zest
Of the days when we were Yankee boys
an' Yankee girls at play,
With nary thought of "livin" way out West!
God bless ye, Denman Thomps'n, for the
good y' do our hearts
With this music an' these memories o' youth-
God bless ye for the faculty that tops all
human arts,
The good ol' Yankee faculty of Truth!
-Eugene Field.
Back:
Coming Attraction
DENMAN THOMPSON'S
IDYL OF NEW ENGLAND
"The Old Homestead"
PERSONAL DIRECTION
MR. FRANK THOMPSON
STAMP
