'Mid the bluegrass of Kentucky
Lies a tranquil little town
That has great claim on history
For distinction and renown;
And to me its streets are fairer
Than the boulevards of Paree,
Rotten Row of London,
Or Monaco by the sea.
Ten thousand leagues I've traveled
Over land and briny foam,
But no sight I saw detracted
From my old Kentucky home;
For with tones that time has mellowed
Now the chords of memory strike,
As I think with youthful ardor
Of dear Richmond on the Pike.