20170917 - Before this day, I had not know Eugene Fields Lover's Lane. Now, I have come to know about a poem and a poet who prior to driving this lane had never known.
Lover's Land, St Joe, by Eugene Field
Saint Jo, Buchanan County,
Is leagues and leagues away;
And I sit in the gloom of this rented room,
And pine to be there to-day.
Yes, with London fog around me
And the bustling to and fro,
I would have a brown-eyed maiden
Go driving once again;
And I 'd sing the song, as we snailed along,
That I sung to that maiden then:
I purposely say, "as we snailed along,"
For a proper horse goes slow
In those leafy aisles, where Cupid smiles,
In Lover's Lane, Saint Jo.
I am fretting to be across the sea
In Lover's Lane, Saint Jo.
(The poem goes on for seven stanzas,)
All USA
20170917 - Before this day, I had not know Eugene Fields Lover's Lane. Now, I have come to know about a poem and a poet who prior to driving this lane had never known. Lover's Land, St Joe, by Eugene Field Saint Jo, Buchanan County, Is leagues and leagues away; And I sit in the gloom of this rented room, And pine to be there to-day. Yes, with London fog around me And the bustling to and fro, I would have a brown-eyed maiden Go driving once again; And I 'd sing the song, as we snailed along, That I sung to that maiden then: I purposely say, "as we snailed along," For a proper horse goes slow In those leafy aisles, where Cupid smiles, In Lover's Lane, Saint Jo. I am fretting to be across the sea In Lover's Lane, Saint Jo. (The poem goes on for seven stanzas,)