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The Old Home Yonder

From the Rock Island Argus, March 12, 1913.
 By S. E. Kiser.

 We hurry through the busy days,
     We that within the cities dwell,
 And, having won a little praise
     For toiling hard or planning well,
 Turn homeward with a pride that dies
     Before another day has dawned
 And we again pursue the prize
     That always lies so far beyond.
 We have our little triumphs who
     Among the eager thousands strive;
 Each busy day brings something new
     To keep our feeble hopes alive,
 But sweeter than the fairest gains
     The cities yield us are the joys
 That come in dreams of country lanes
     Down which we strolled when we were boys.
 We nurse ambitions that are fair,
     And struggle on to win renown,
 But when the day ends with its care,
     We still dream of the little town
 Or of the orchard where the breeze
     Once stirred the fragrant buds in May;
 We keep the sweet old memories,
     It matters not how far we stray.

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