Home furthest off grows dearer from the way; br And when the army in the Indias lay br Friends' letters coming from his native place br Were like old neighbours with their country face. br And every opportunity that came br Opened the sheet to gaze upon the name br Of that loved village where he left his sheep br For more contented peaceful folk to keep; br And friendly faces absent many a year br Would from such letters in his mind appear. br And when his pockets, chafing through the case, br Wore it quite out ere others took the place, br Right loath to be of company bereft br He kept the fragments while a bit was left.