Old Kentucky Home
And 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