WE'RE writing to-night to the old, old home, And how we yearn to see The rusty Ford by the old barn-door— And hear the buzzing bee! We're writing to-night on a telegraph blank— For we can not keep away— We've wandered afar in this cruel world, But we're going home to stay! We're writing to-night with an eager pen— No more shall we stray and roam— For we went broke on the second race, And we're wiring for carfare home! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TIME THE HANGMAN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE RHODORA: ON BEING ASKED, WHENCE IS THE FLOWER? by RALPH WALDO EMERSON JINNY THE JUST by MATTHEW PRIOR WORK by ALEKSANDR SERGEYEVICH PUSHKIN TO MRS -- RETURNING FINE HYACINTH PLANT AFTER BLOOM IS OVER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |