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        HOME ONCE MORE.

I am thinking of my home and the cottage on the hill.
The cottage where my poor old mother died ;
The orchard and the school where I learn'd the
golden rule,
And old Dobbin on whose back I used to ride
When I recall the scene, it seems to be a dream,
A dream that is long past and o'er.
A tear comes in my eye, and I cannot help but sigh,
To see my dear and good old home once more.

Home once more, home once more, shall I ever see my
home once more,
Oh, those pleasant hours I play'd, in those happy
childhood days,
Shall I ever see my home once more, shall I ever see
the church where I often used to go:
Shall I ever see that dear old church again,
Shall I ever see my playmates, who in childhood's day
I played,
Or must I in a foreign land remain.
Shall I ever see nay father, that poor grey-haired old
man,
As he sat in his arm chair by the do r.
If I had power, if I had wealth, I'd give them all for
health.
So that I might see my good old home once more.

I still recall to mind, how my sister good and kind,
At parting gave to me a lock of hair,
Seven yea s are now past o'er since I left my native
shore,
And still my heart is longing to be there
To a maiden kind and true, I also bid adue,
And tho' far away, that girl I do adore,
And I hope and trust I may live to see the happy day,
When I'll see them in my good old home once more.