O, there's no home like the old home, there's no pillow
like the breast
You slumbered on in childhood, like a young bird in
the nest:
We are livin' still and waitin', and we're hopin' for the
best--
Ah, you're comin' back, my darlin'--comin' back!






FARCALLADEN RISE

Oh, it's down the long side of Farcalladen Rise,
With the knees pressing hard to the saddle, my men;
With the sparks from the hoofs giving light to the eyes,
And our hearts beating hard as we rode to the glen!

And it's back with the ring of the chain and the spur,
And it's back with the sun on the hill and the moor,
And it's back is the thought sets my pulses astir,--
But I'll never go back to Farcalladen more!

Oh, it's down the long side of Farcalladen Rise,
And it's swift as an arrow and straight as a spear,
And it's keen as the frost when the summer-time dies,
That we rode to the glen, and with never a fear.