Home
Home! magic name of sweetest sound,
That thrills us like a spell;
That consecrates the humblest cot
Where loved ones kindly dwell.
How much that simple name recalls
Of happy childhood’s days,
When the old homestead was illumed
By love’s inspiring rays.
Visions of beauty unsurpassed,
Are conjured by that word
That thrills a Briton’s heart where’er
The English tongue is heard.
And when in exile wandering,
On fairer, brighter plains;
How the melodious name of home
Our best affection claims.
The roof-tree may be stricken down,
And loved ones be no more;
But the sweet memories of our home
Live on for evermore.
Wealth may attract and pleasure lure
When far away we roam;
But ah! how joyful we return
To the pure shrine of home.
There we find sweet repose and peace,
There too our holiest love;
And there we gain a foretaste pure
Of coming joys above.
Then “Home, sweet home,” shall be our song
On earth, and when on high
’Twill still be home, dear, happy home,
In the glad “by-and-by.”