The chimney stands like a tombstone
 To mark where the house once stood.
And all around are the leavin's--
 The stone, and ash of wood.

The house that stood so proudly
 Held many a joy for me.
And long will I remember
 The things that used to be.

When Maw and I were married
 I took her there to live,
And there we raised our family--
 The gifts that God can give.

The children now are scattered,
 No more their laughter rings.
Around the house and the hillside
 From meadow to flowing springs.

The house has served it's purpose,
 No longer can it hold
The things I really cherish--
 That can't be bought with gold.

There Maw took sick and left me
 To walk the veil of tears
Alone--and yet, there's comfort
 From God for all the years.

The house is now a shambles,
 For it caught fire last night
And lit the lonesome country
 With a bright and shining light.

I stood and watched it burning,
 All by myself alone.
Now, all that's left a-standin'
 Is the chimney of stone.

It marks the final resting place
 Of the house that used to be.
But the things that made that house a home
 I'll carry them with me.

For a house is just a building
 Of wood, or clay, or stone.
But the things of life within it,
 They make that house a home.
 

  By:  Hal Fanning
       Bolivar, Mo.
       l957