The little path that leads to home,
That is the road for me,
I know no finer path to roam,
With finer sights to see.
With thoroughfares the world is lined
That lead to wonders new,
But he who treads them leaves behind
The tender things and true.
Oh, north and south and east and west
The crowded roadways go,
And sweating brow and weary breast
Are all they seem to know.
And mad for pleasure some are bent,
And some are seeking fame,
And some are sick with discontent,
And some are bruised and lame.
Across the world the gleaming steel
Holds out its lure for men,
But no one finds his comfort real
Till he comes home again.
And charted lanes now line the sea
For weary hearts to roam,
But, Oh, the finest path to me
Is that which leads to home.
'Tis there I come to laughing eyes
And find a welcome true;
'Tis there all care behind me lies
And joy is ever new.
And, Oh, when every day is done
Upon that little street,
A pair of rosy youngsters run
To me with flying feet.
The world with myriad paths is lined
But one alone for me,
One little road where I may find
The charms I want to see.
Though thoroughfares majestic call
The multitude to roam,
I would not leave, to know them all,
The path that leads to home.
Hey David - I just joined this site and you already found me! Cool! I hope all is well. Didn't you have a reading or pitch for Aspirin? How did that go? Life has been cray non-stop since I last saw you...really good stuff evolving. I hope you are doing well!
PB
xo
Thanks for connecting with me. Nice to meet you here. Also thanks for your kind feedback on my art and your warm welcone. Your pictures are breathtaking.
Warm greetings
The Ancient One
by Edgar Guest
The little path that leads to home,
That is the road for me,
I know no finer path to roam,
With finer sights to see.
With thoroughfares the world is lined
That lead to wonders new,
But he who treads them leaves behind
The tender things and true.
Oh, north and south and east and west
The crowded roadways go,
And sweating brow and weary breast
Are all they seem to know.
And mad for pleasure some are bent,
And some are seeking fame,
And some are sick with discontent,
And some are bruised and lame.
Across the world the gleaming steel
Holds out its lure for men,
But no one finds his comfort real
Till he comes home again.
And charted lanes now line the sea
For weary hearts to roam,
But, Oh, the finest path to me
Is that which leads to home.
'Tis there I come to laughing eyes
And find a welcome true;
'Tis there all care behind me lies
And joy is ever new.
And, Oh, when every day is done
Upon that little street,
A pair of rosy youngsters run
To me with flying feet.
The world with myriad paths is lined
But one alone for me,
One little road where I may find
The charms I want to see.
Though thoroughfares majestic call
The multitude to roam,
I would not leave, to know them all,
The path that leads to home.
Feb 23, 2010
Peter Bedard
PB
xo
Mar 10, 2010
Peter Bedard
PB
Mar 12, 2010
Peter Bedard
PB
Mar 17, 2010
Elisabetta Errani Emaldi
Thank you for you friendship!!!
Mar 20, 2010
Brajanne Jacobs
Thanks for connecting with me. Nice to meet you here. Also thanks for your kind feedback on my art and your warm welcone. Your pictures are breathtaking.
Warm greetings
Brajanne
Mar 23, 2010
LLOYD
Feel free to visit www.myspace.com/lloydanderson ' there ' you can hear more songs , & see photos. bloggs etc .
Positives from Lloyd .
Apr 2, 2010
Julie Jenkinson
Thank you for your reply. Yes it would be fascinating to hear more about you and your Poetry. Julie.
May 6, 2010
Julie Jenkinson
May 6, 2010
jb
"Appreciate".."You" !!
Your brother
jbJun 1, 2010