In the mountains of Kentucky, Where the ivy's astral bloom And the laurel's waxen petals Shed a rich and rare perfume; Where the purple rhododendron And the wild forget-me-not Bloom in amorous profusion Round a little mossy grot. It was there I left Rowena, She is waiting now for me, While I linger here impatient, For my love I long to see. Oh, but soon I know I'll see her, And never more we'll part-- In the mountains of Kentucky, Lives my own, my true sweetheart. _Refrain_ She's a fairy, I'll admit, a little airy; But her eyes are like the blue Aegean sea: And her auburn hair, it would drive you to despair, For Rowena's heart is true to none but me. In the mountains of Kentucky, Though the grass may not be blue, Yet the streams are swift and sparkling, And Rowena's heart is true: And I love the lofty mountains, And the deep and darkling coves, Where the redbirds gloom and glimmer, And Rowena lives and loves. 'Tis the home, they say, of feudist, Where the hand of man is red; But I know a hundred places, Where blood's as wanton shed: Yet no spot in all creation Has a sky of such a hue-- In the mountains of Kentucky Lives my sweetheart pure and true. _Refrain_ In the Blue-grass of Kentucky Now Rowena waits for me, With a brood of little fairies That my heart so longs to see; For their eyes are bright and sparkling As the drops of diamond dew-- In the Blue-grass of Kentucky, Live my sweethearts pure and true: Yes, I love the lofty mountains, And the deep and darkling cove, Where the redbirds gloom and glimmer, And the sky is bright above; But one spot to me is dearer Than all the world apart, In the Blue-grass of Kentucky, Lives my own, my true sweetheart. _Refrain_ THE BLOOM OF LOVE! (_Double Acrostic_) Romance by the little stream, Where the wild-rose blooms so fair; Oh, who would mar that happy dream I see enacted there? Beauteous orioles are they-- Little timid, tongueless birds-- Each listening to the voiceless lay, Love strives to put in words. Roses drop their petals round; In the air a sweet perfume; Till time no longer baffles sound-- Eternal love hath burst its bloom! MY MUSE Oh! couldst thou know her faithful art! When troubled dreams disturb the brain, Though rattling sleet be on the pane, Beneath the window of my heart, I hear her cheering strain-- My _Muse_ who never will depart For life's cold wintry rain. A HANK OF HOMESPUN THE SCHOOL OF SKINNY