[Poems by Payne in] John Howard Payne ... his life and writings | ||
HOME, SWEET HOME!
'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like Home!
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,
(Like the love of a mother,
Surpassing all other,)
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.
There's a spell in the shade
Where our infancy play'd,
Even stronger than Time, and more deep than despair!
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like Home!
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,
(Like the love of a mother,
Surpassing all other,)
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.
There's a spell in the shade
Where our infancy play'd,
Even stronger than Time, and more deep than despair!
An exile from Home, splendor dazzles in vain!
Oh, give me my lowly, thatch'd cottage again!
The birds and the lambkins that came at my call,—
Those who nam'd me with pride,—
Those who play'd by my side,—
Give me them! with the innocence dearer than all!
The joys of the palaces through which I roam
Only swell my heart's anguish—There's no place like Home!
Oh, give me my lowly, thatch'd cottage again!
The birds and the lambkins that came at my call,—
Those who nam'd me with pride,—
Those who play'd by my side,—
Give me them! with the innocence dearer than all!
The joys of the palaces through which I roam
Only swell my heart's anguish—There's no place like Home!
To us, in despite of the absence of years,
How sweet the remembrance of home still appears;
From allurements abroad, which but flatter the eye,
The unsatisfied heart turns, and says, with a sigh,
“Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home!
There's no place like home!”
How sweet the remembrance of home still appears;
From allurements abroad, which but flatter the eye,
The unsatisfied heart turns, and says, with a sigh,
“Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home!
There's no place like home!”
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Your exile is blest with all fate can bestow;
But mine has been checkered with many a woe!
Yet, tho' different our fortunes, our thoughts are the same,
And both, as we think of Columbia, exclaim,
“Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home!
There's no place like home!”
But mine has been checkered with many a woe!
Yet, tho' different our fortunes, our thoughts are the same,
And both, as we think of Columbia, exclaim,
“Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home!
There's no place like home!”
[Poems by Payne in] John Howard Payne ... his life and writings | ||