James Whitcomb Riley

Right Here at Home

Right here at home, boys, in old Hoosierdom,
Where strangers allus joke us when they come,
And brag o’ _their_ old States and interprize—
Yit _settle_ here; and 'fore they realize,
They’re 'hoosier’ as the rest of us, and live
Right here at home, boys, with their past fergive!
 
Right here at home, boys, is the place, I guess,
Fer me and you and plain old happiness:
We hear the World’s lots grander—likely so,—
We’ll take the World’s word fer it and not go.—
We know _its_ ways aint _our_ ways—so we’ll stay
Right here at home, boys, where we know the way.
 
Right here at home, boys, where a well-to-do
Man’s plenty rich enough—and knows it, too,
And’s got a’ extry dollar, any time,
To boost a feller up 'at _wants_ to climb
And 's got the git-up in him to go in
And _git there_, like he purt’-nigh allus kin!
 
Right here at home, boys, is the place fer us!—
Where folks’ heart’s bigger 'n their money-pu’s’;
And where a _common_ feller’s jes as good
As ary other in the neighborhood:
The World at large don’t worry you and me
Right here at home, boys, where we ort to be!
 
Right here at home, boys—jes right where we air!—
Birds don’t sing any sweeter anywhere:
Grass don’t grow any greener’n she grows
Acrost the pastur’ where the old path goes,—
All things in ear-shot’s purty, er in sight,
Right here at home, boys, ef we _size_ 'em right.
 
Right here at home, boys, where the old home-place
Is sacerd to us as our mother’s face,
Jes as we rickollect her, last she smiled
And kissed us—dyin’ so and rickonciled,
Seein’ us all at home here—none astray—
Right here at home, boys, where she sleeps to-day.
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