THE HOME FIELDS
Thefields are full of sunlight,And leafy golden-green,And misty purple shadowsAre flitting in between;The flaky elder flowersAre drenched with honey-dew,And all the distant woodlandsStand veiled in tender blue.Half seen between green thicketsOf grape-vine and wild rose,In twinkling swirls of silverThe lazy river flows;While down the grassy roadsideThe milkweed balls are bright,And waving prince’s-featherIs tipped with snowy white.Ah, ever-dearest home-land,’Tis here my spirit sings!And as my heart caressesThe sweet, familiar things,Such rare midsummer magicDistills through all the air,I think these fields are fairerThan any anywhere!
Thefields are full of sunlight,And leafy golden-green,And misty purple shadowsAre flitting in between;The flaky elder flowersAre drenched with honey-dew,And all the distant woodlandsStand veiled in tender blue.Half seen between green thicketsOf grape-vine and wild rose,In twinkling swirls of silverThe lazy river flows;While down the grassy roadsideThe milkweed balls are bright,And waving prince’s-featherIs tipped with snowy white.Ah, ever-dearest home-land,’Tis here my spirit sings!And as my heart caressesThe sweet, familiar things,Such rare midsummer magicDistills through all the air,I think these fields are fairerThan any anywhere!
Thefields are full of sunlight,And leafy golden-green,And misty purple shadowsAre flitting in between;The flaky elder flowersAre drenched with honey-dew,And all the distant woodlandsStand veiled in tender blue.
Thefields are full of sunlight,
And leafy golden-green,
And misty purple shadows
Are flitting in between;
The flaky elder flowers
Are drenched with honey-dew,
And all the distant woodlands
Stand veiled in tender blue.
Half seen between green thicketsOf grape-vine and wild rose,In twinkling swirls of silverThe lazy river flows;While down the grassy roadsideThe milkweed balls are bright,And waving prince’s-featherIs tipped with snowy white.
Half seen between green thickets
Of grape-vine and wild rose,
In twinkling swirls of silver
The lazy river flows;
While down the grassy roadside
The milkweed balls are bright,
And waving prince’s-feather
Is tipped with snowy white.
Ah, ever-dearest home-land,’Tis here my spirit sings!And as my heart caressesThe sweet, familiar things,Such rare midsummer magicDistills through all the air,I think these fields are fairerThan any anywhere!
Ah, ever-dearest home-land,
’Tis here my spirit sings!
And as my heart caresses
The sweet, familiar things,
Such rare midsummer magic
Distills through all the air,
I think these fields are fairer
Than any anywhere!