A dear little home by the murmuring sea, Where all my fondest hopes cling lovingly; A little spot away from all the strife And din which constitute a city life. My barque has found an anchorage at last, And now methinks life's storms are o'er and past. O little home! besides my much loved sea, Long, long, may I be spared to dwell in thee!
Home, dear home, in the golden West, How often I banish thy memory, lest Thoughts of thy loved ones too oft should come To mar the peace of my sea-girt home. For when I remember the sorrowful time When the great ship sailed to the far-off clime, I can see my dear mother's face arise With the anguished look in her fond old eyes. dear, dear home, on a distant shore, Shall I ever behold thy loved ones more?
Beautiful home of Eternal rest, Home everlasting for all of the blest, How often I wish that my weary feet Were ready to pace thy golden street. Home, where no parting or sorrow will be, Beautiful land where there's "no more sea," No wrecks cast up by the turbulent wave! No shadow of death, no fear of the grave. O God! when on earth I cease to be, May I dwell in Thy home for Eternity. ····· Home, dear home, with a true heart blest; Home, dear home, in the golden West; Bright, bright home of Eternal rest; Say, which of the three should I love best?
