THE DEAR OLD HOME.
Copyright, 1893, by T. B. Harms & Co.
Words and Music by Leona Fontainbleau Jerome.
This world's a dream of vast excitement, 'most ev'ry one seems on the rush,
Both men And women, late And early, and oft the strong the weak will crush.
How strange 'tis that, midst all this glamour, oft our thoughts will turn away
To other scenes now past recalling, and in our hearts these words we'll say:
There's the dear old home, where my mother she rocked me to sleep,
The dear old place still a spot in my memory shall keep;
The bright fireside, yes, wherever I ramble or roam,
I'll think of thee, my dear old home.
This life, we find, has many changes-a time for pleasure, a time for tears,
And as the days fly quickly from us, why soon we find they're changed to years.
Now other forms they gather 'round as, diff'rent faces hover near;
But when alone our thoughts will wander, And days long past will reappear.-Ref.