Poems (Charlotte Allen)/Home

by Charlotte Allen

For works with similar titles, see Home.

HOME.

There 's a spell entwined around the-heart,
 No earthly power can sever;
'T will linger there 'till life depart;
 And can it break? Oh, never!

Where'er we wander through this sphere,
 Where'er our steps may roam,
There 's nought in life we find so dear,
 As are the charms of Home!

We may travel through our native land,
 Or seek a foreign shore,
And meet with many an open hand,
 And heart of friendship's store.

But whereso'er our steps may bend,
 However dear the spot,
Though pleasure may its witcheries lend,
 Home cannot be forgot.

The sailor on the briny deep,
 And the billows foam,
Oft feels his heart within him leap,
 When thinking of his home.

The warrior 'mid the cannons noise,
 Or clash of sword and spear,
Retains within his breast the joys
 Of home, that still is dear.

The husband, when abroad he goes,
 Whom interest calls to roam,
Knows that the truest pleasure flows
 Within his little home.

The wife, should duty call away
 From the domestic hearth,
Feels that she cannot, must not stay,
 From a home of so much worth.

The child, when absent from the arms,
 Of fond parental bliss,
Thinks that the world can boast no charms,
 Like home and a parent's kiss.