Old Kentucky HomeAnd a vale between the hills Stands a quaint old fashioned Cottage that I love Where the honey suckle vine 'Round that rustic porch did twine So inviting to the bee And humming birds. I can see the winding path round My old Kentucky home, Like a line of river Wending to and fro. I can see the blue grass waving Between the fences made of rails And the pheasants loudly drumming And the piping of the quails. I can hear the hounds baying While the hunter blows his horn, I can see the dew-drops sparkle On the rose just newly born. I can hear a hush of silence, When comes the gentle rain As it patters on the clap-boards Down the eaves and window panes. From the plains of sunny Kansas My thoughts revert today To the school house in the clearing Though many miles away. Where we gathered sweetest roses, The Bride and Bon-Saline, To bedeck the flowing tresses Of our beautiful May Day queen. The Plains Poems in Kansas
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