There's an old oaken bucket
Beside a well long gone dry
The mere memory of it
Brings a tear to his eye

There were many happy hours
In the old red barn so long ago
Where they ran from the showers
That fell in the bright summer glow

The old narrow road still winds
Through the hill so slow
And the same ole moon still accents the lonesome pines
And the sparkling stream with its awesome flow

She can still see the old house so neat
And the huge porch with the old wooden swing
A haven for a tired body and sore feet
Where the cares of the moment flew away as on a robin's wing

The old house is long gone with its inhabitants so dear
But no matter how far away he wonders and roams
Or how many siren songs he may hear
There's no place on Earth like the pathway to home