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one has journeyed far afield
 * To see earth's varied treasure,

And taste the joy fresh pastures yield—
 * Perhaps his greatest pleasure

Is when he turns his footsteps back Along the old, well-beaten track,
 * To learn in fuller measure,

Home's quiet joys and friendly cheer By absence rendered still more dear.

'Tis well to turn the wearied eyes
 * Where foreign suns are glowing,

And gain the stimulus that lies
 * Where fresher streams are flowing;

But O, the happy rush of thought With which the eager hours are fraught
 * When we are homeward going!

How good the old accustomed place— How sweet each dear familiar face!