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Paul Laurence Dunbar - Bein` Back Home
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HOME agin, an` home to stay — 
Yes, it`s nice to be away.
Plenty things to do an` see,
But the old place seems to me
Jest about the proper thing.
Mebbe `ts `cause the mem`ries cling
Closer `round yore place o` birth
`N ary other spot on earth.
W`y it`s nice jest settin` here,
Lookin` out an` seein` clear,
`Thout no smoke, ner dust, ner haze
In these sweet October days. 
What`s as good as that there lane,
Kind o` browned from last night`s rain?
`Pears like home has got the start
When the goal`s a feller`s heart.
What`s as good as that there jay
Screechin` up`ards towards the gray
Skies? An` tell me, what`s as fine
As that full-leafed pumpkin vine?
Tow`rin` buildin`s — yes, they`re good;
But in sight o` field and wood,
Then a feller understan`s
`Bout the house not made with han`s
Let the others rant an` roam
When they git away from home;
Jest gi` me my old settee
An` my pipe beneath a tree;
Sight o` medders green an` still,
Now and then a gentle hill.
Apple orchards, full o` fruit,
Nigh a cider press to boot — 
That`s the thing jest done up brown;
D`want to be too nigh to town;
Want to have the smells an` sights,
An` the dreams o` long still nights,
With the friends you used to know
In the keerless long ago.—
Same old cronies, same old folks,
Same old cider, same old jokes.
Say, it`s nice a-gittin` back,
When yore pulse is growin` slack,
An` yore breath begins to wheeze
Like a fair-set valley breeze;
Kind o` nice to set aroun`
On the old familiar groun`,
Knowin` that when Death does come,
That he`ll find you right at home.
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