The house is a castle which the King cannot enter.

The house is a castle which the King cannot enter.

At night returning, every labour sped,
He sits him down, the monarch of a shed;
Smiles by read more

At night returning, every labour sped,
He sits him down, the monarch of a shed;
Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys
His children's looks, that brighten at the blaze;
While his lov'd partner, boastful of her hoard,
Displays her cleanly platter on the board.

Home is the girl's prison and the woman's workhouse.

Home is the girl's prison and the woman's workhouse.

Home is home, though it be never so homely.

Home is home, though it be never so homely.

Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.

Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.

Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to

Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to

I've read in many a novel, that unless they've souls that
grovel--
Folks prefer in fact a hovel read more

I've read in many a novel, that unless they've souls that
grovel--
Folks prefer in fact a hovel to your dreary marble halls.

What if in Scotland's wilds we viel'd our head,
Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed;
Where read more

What if in Scotland's wilds we viel'd our head,
Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed;
Where the rug's two-fold use we might display,
By night a blanket, and a plaid by day.

There's nothing half so pleasant as coming home again.

There's nothing half so pleasant as coming home again.