The Idaho world. [volume] (Idaho City, Idaho Territory) 1864-1918, 1870-12-29
IDAHO WORLD.
.roME SWEET HOME"
John Howard Payne, the author o.
that to1ching and immortal song,


dent in his career furnishes us with a
remarkable dream. He was not only
poor in pocket, but homeless wander
err In conversation with a friend, he
once gave expression to the following
sad recital: JaJ41 "
"How often" said he, shave been
in the heart of Paris, Berlin, London,
or some other city, and heard persons
PLAYING Sweet Home while i was not
the owner of shilling with which to
buy the next meal, and had not even a
place to lay my head. The world has
literally learned my song, until every
heart is familiar with its melody. Yet
I have been a wanderer from my boy
hood. Ny country has turned me ruth
-lessly from Office, and in my old age |
have to submit to humiliation for food !"
He had given the most exact and
beautiful expressions of the hearts emo
ton regarding home, and yet personal
ly he was q stranger to all its tender
and loving emotions. A wanderer and
sometimes vagabond, he had moved
the human heart to it's very depths by
his exquisite lines. -.
Disguised with his treatment in his
own country, and still impelled by his
disposition to roam, his only wish was
to die in foreign land, to be buried by
strangers, and to sleep in obscurity.
He obtained an appointment as United
States Consul at Tunis, where he died.
We now return to period anteced-
ent to the composition Of his song. At
times he was greatly depressed, and
seemed to feel most acutely his utter
loneliness. One day friend called to
see him, and on entering said: II
"How are you to-day, Payne?"
"Down-hearted enough" he replied;
"but last night | had one of the most
glorious visions, in dream, that ever
met mortal eyer
"Ah, indeed; what was it ~
"Well, | will tell you. | suppose
you think it was scene of vast wealth,
of palace, or something else of that
kind that mems hearts are most set up
on. 1t was nothing of the sort. | do
not often have dreams; but when | do,
they impress me greatly. In this one
saw scene of the most transcend
ent rural peacefulness and beauty. 1t
was all that poet and painter can i'm
agine. The landscape was composed
of gently rolling hills, and sweet, still
valleys, with meandering streams of
bluest limpid water. There were flow
ers and birds, crops, focks and herds.
In the midst of all this stood various
habitations of man, where | saw happy
men, women and children, and heard
pleasant voices, with laughter, music,
and song.D -.sl.i |t'7's.sa
Truly, beautiful picture of domcs-
tic contentment," said the friend.
"The lifelong imagery of my brain"
cried the poet, "of home, sweet home
All! how my soul reveled in the picture.
But gradually it faded from my sight.
| was transfxed. strained my vision
to catch its outlines as they grew faint
er and fainter, but at last it had faded
entirely away. l then looked up, and
saw a great cloud gathering, which at
length grew dark and terrible. 'Ahr
said !, that cloud is. significant of nv
own lot AS | said these words saw
traced upon that cloud, in burning let,
tiers, those words of the Almighty toll
another miserable man:
a fugitive aad a vugabond shalt thou
be in the earahp = J %# 4 q
I'm terror | recognized my doom, and t
awoke to find it both dream and a
reality" T ,) -" ~ i" +
Inc unhappy man buried his face in
ms hands. and seemed in deep misery
"A very wonderful dream,"' said his t
companion. - t
Well do you know what | intend to $
do!" said Payne, looking up; "Pll tell a
you. I've been thinking great deal t
over this matter, and l intend to write t
q song called, and about, Home, Sweet a
Home The picture of my dream shall t
pc my inspiration for the task, and INV i
lonely heart can we'll give touching ):
pathos to my words.n - - II
!, Not long after, the song, of '.Home, b
sweet Home was given to the world a
~ John N. Hoy ard Payne, P
. Some people have such delicate wav "
II II limiting their meaning that it is not "
w 'lways readily taken, but others speak Il
more plainly We heard of on old 49, d