Explore "Homeland (the Baby's Baedeker)" by Harry Graham on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The tour is over! We must part! / Our mutual journey at an end. / O bid farewell, with aching heart, / To guide, philosopher, and friend; / And note, as you remark 'Good-bye! ' / The kindly tear that dims his eye.
The tour is ended! Sad but true! / No more together may we roam! / We turn our lonely footsteps to / The spot that's known as Home, Sweet Home. / Nor time nor temper can afford / A more protracted trip abroad.
O Home! where we must always be / So hopelessly misunderstood; / Where waits a tactless family, / To tell us things 'for our own good'; / Where relatives, with searchlight eyes, / Can penetrate our choicest lies.
Where all our kith and kin combine / To prove that we are worse than rude, / If we should criticise the wine / Or make complaints about the food. / Thank goodness, then, to quote the pome, / Thank goodness there's 'no place like Home! '