Words and Music by 
Miss ANNA C. HILTS 
1. ’Tis a place I shall ev - er re-mem-ber, 
2. Now per - haps you may think it a pal-ace, 
3. There’s the swing bears its place’neath the wil-low, 
Should I 
But, a 
To my 
Moderato. 
be fif - ty years old, 
an old - fash-ioned frame, 
a sad - ness it gave, 
’Twas the home of us all in our child-hoo 
And the well with its moss - covered buck-et, 
While its stem with its branch-es re - clin - ing, 
And we prize it, yes, high - er thai 
While re - gard - less of time, looks the 
And for cen - tu - ries still may it 
gold, 
same, 
wave 
’Twas the home of 
And the well ivith 
While its stem with 
Aud we prize it, yes, high - er than gold. 
While re - gard - less of time, looks the same. 
And for cen - tu - ries still may it wave! 
us all m our cliild-hood 
its moss - cov - ered buck - et, 
its branch - es re - clin - ing, 
I shall ev - er re-mem-ber 
Should fate bid me see it a - gain 
I would dwell in the haunts of my childhood, In the 
I would dwell in the haunts of my childhood, 
Copyright, 1877, by F. W. Helmick. Published in sheet music form. Price iO cts., by F. W. Helmick, Cincinnati, OU*. 
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