THE DEAR IRISH HOMESTEAD.
Copyright, 1893, by T. B. Harms & Co.
Words and Music by John T. Kelly.
As my mem'ry awakens to scenes long ago,
How I love to recall them again;
There are tokens of friendship we never forget,
And relics we always retain.
I can picture a village of sunshine and flowers
Where stands a cabin of stone;
'Twas under its roof where I first saw the light,
In my old country home, sweet home.
Dear Irish homestead, I think of thee,
Bustle old cabin, in fancy I see;
Home of my boyhood, I love thee so,
Dear homestead of long ago.
I remember, on Sunday, the tiny white church,
Where my sweetheart she sang in the choir;
And the shady green lane where we strolled, she and I,
Our love tales seemed never to tire.
See the old village parson with kindly good face,
'Twas he made Norah my own;
She's gone, like the past, yet I see her again
In my old country home, sweet home.- Chorus.