Hard to Forget

I'm thinking to-night of the old farm, Ned, And my heart is heavy and sad As I think of the days that by have fled Since I was a little lad. There rises before me each spot I know Of the old home in the dell, The fields, and woods, and meadows below That memory holds so well.
    The city is pleasant and lively, Ned, But what to us is its charm? To-night all my thoughts are fixed, instead, On our childhood's old home farm. I know you are thinking the same, dear Ned, With your head bowed on your arm, For to-morrow at four we'll be jerked out of bed To plow on that darned old farm.