THE OLD NEW ENGLAND HOME.
Copyright, 1898, by Hamilton S. Gordon.
Words by Frank D. Pease. Music by Samuel H. Speck.
There's an old and ruined' homestead by the roadside,
There's a field where yellow corn once used to grow,
There's the meadow where the cows were sent to pasture,
And the mountain tops all covered o'er with snow;
There's the brook still flowing gently thro' the woodland,.
As it glides o'er pebbles on its winding way,
It reminds me of the dear friends of my childhood.
And the many happy hours we spent in play.
I can close my eyes and dimly see the picture
Of the happy home and friends I used to know,
And my mem'ry still recalls from recollections
Of the old New England homestead long ago.
Oh, the light has gone from out that dear old homestead,
All around is still and silent there to-day.
And the birds they build their nests up in the attic,
'Tis in ruins and fast going to decay;
There is mother, father, sweetheart and my sister
Sleeping silent in the church-yard side by side;
It would break their heart if they were here to see It,
For the old New England homestead was their pride.-Chorus.