  There once was a restless boy Who dwelt in a home by the sea, Where the water danced for joy, And the wind was glad and free; But he said: "Good mother, O let me go! For the dullest place in the world, I know, Is this little brown house, This old brown house, Under the apple tree. "I will travel east and west; The loveliest homes I'll see; And when I have found the best, Dear mother, I'll come for thee. I'll come for thee in a year and a day, And joyfully then we'll haste away From this little brown house, This old brown house, Under the apple tree." So he travelled here and there, But never content was he, Though he saw in lands most fair The costliest homes there be. He something missed from the sea or sky, Till he turned again with a wistful sigh To the little brown house, The old brown house, Under the apple tree. Then the mother saw and smiled, While her heart grew glad and free. "Hast thou chosen a home, my child? Ah, where shall we dwell?" quoth she. And he said: "Sweet mother, from east to west, The loveliest home, and the dearest and best, Is a little brown house, An old brown house, Under an apple tree." Eudora S. Bumstead |
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