We was speakin' of folks, jes' common folks, <br />An' we come to this conclusion, <br />That wherever they be, on land or sea, <br />They warm to a home allusion; <br />That under the skin an' under the hide <br />There's a spark that starts a-glowin' <br />Whenever they look at a scene or book <br />That something of home is showin'. <br /> <br />They may differ in creeds an' politics, <br />They may argue an' even quarrel, <br />But their throats grip tight, <br />If they catch a sight <br />Of their favorite elm or laurel. <br />An' the winding lane that they used to tread <br />With never a care to fret 'em, <br />Or the pasture gate where they used to wait, <br />Right under the skin will get 'em. <br /> <br />Now folks is folks on their different ways, <br />With their different griefs an' pleasures, <br />But the home they knew, when their years were few, <br />Is the dearest of all their treasures. <br />An' the richest man to the poorest waif <br />Right under the skin is brother <br />When they stand an' sigh, <br />With a tear-dimmed eye, <br />At a thought of the dear old mother. <br /> <br />It makes no difference where it may be, <br />Nor the fortunes that years may alter, <br />Be they simple or wise, the old home ties <br />Make all of 'em often falter. <br />Time may robe 'em in sackcloth coarse <br />Or garb 'em in gorgeous splendor, <br />But whatever their lot, they keep one spot <br />Down deep that is sweet an' tender. <br /> <br />We was speakin' of folks, jes' common folks, <br />An' we come to this conclusion, <br />That one an' all, be they great or small, <br />Will warm to a home allusion; <br />That under the skin an' the beaten hide <br />They're kin in a real affection <br />For the joys they knew, <br />When their years were few, <br />An' the home of their recollection.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/folks-2/
