| Name of Notable | Genus | AsNotedIn | No | Address | Proximity | Area |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Name | Genus | AsNotedIn | Address | Proximity | Area | |
| Nathan Huston House |
|
|
KY 78 |
| Particulars for Hustonville: | |
|---|---|
| Locale Type | Place |
| Work | Type | AsNotedIn | Creator | Note |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Over the Hill to Hustonville | Poem | James Hillary Mulligan | Over the hill to Hustonville, Past mead and vale and waving grain. |
By
Over the hill to Hustonville, Past mead and vale and waving grain,With fleecy clouds and glad sunshine And the balm of the coming rain;On where hidden beneath the hill, In the widening vale below-Chime and smithy and distant herd Sing a song of the long ago.
Over the hill to Hustonville Where silent fields are sad and brownAnd the crow's lone call is blended With the anvil-beat of the town;Where sweet the hamlet life flows on, And the doors, ever open wide,Welcome the worn and wandering To the ingle and cheer inside.
Over the hill to Hustonville I knew and loved as a child,A scene that yet lights up to me With a radiant glow and mild;With drowsy lane and quiet street, The gables quaint and the houses gray,Ancient inn with battered sign, And an air of the far-away.
Over the hill to Hustonville Where men are still sturdy and strongAs were their sires in days long past- As true as their flint-locks long;And maids are shy and soft of speech- As the wild rose lithesome and true-Eyes alight as the coming dawn- Softly blue, as their skies are blue.
Some-sometimes-in the bye-and-bye,With all my life-won riches rare-Dead hopes and faded memories-A silken floss of baby hair-Fast-locked close within my heart-Worn of strife and the empty quest-I'll o'er the hill to Hustonville.To dream ever-and rest-and rest.
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