THE OLD BATTERED HORN.
Copyright, 1892, by T. B. Harms & Co.
By Al. W. Filson.
I've heard many strains that thrilled me with joy,
But none I will say, since the day I was born,
Has pleased me so much as when a small boy
I heard on the farm the old dinner horn;
'Twas a trumpet of tin, a yard or so long,
And was blown for the boys at noon and at morn;
The monotonous strain was piercing and strong,
But sweet for all that was the old battered horn.
"Come in! Come in! "You can hear it for ever so long!
The monotonous strain was piercing and strong;
But sweet for all that was the old buttered horn!
When building the fence or pitching the hay,
Or reaping the grain or ploughing the corn.
With appetites keen at the noon of the day.
Oh, sweet to my soul was the old battered horn.
A mother's fond lips pressed that trumpet of tin,
And blew her sweet soul thro' the barley and corn;
I hear even yet the welcome, "Come in, Come in,
My dear boys, to the sound of the horn!" -Refrain.