When the hornet hangs in the holly hock,
And the brown bee drones i' the rose,
And read more

When the hornet hangs in the holly hock,
And the brown bee drones i' the rose,
And the west is a red-streaked four-o'clock,
And summer is near its close--
It's--Oh, for the gate, and the locust lane;
And dusk, and dew, and home again!

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

My whinstone house my castle is,
I have my own four walls.

My whinstone house my castle is,
I have my own four walls.

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.

My home is in Heaven. I\'m just traveling through this world.

My home is in Heaven. I\'m just traveling through this world.

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

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

A man builds a fine house; and now he has a master, and a task for life: he is to read more

A man builds a fine house; and now he has a master, and a task for life: he is to furnish, watch, show it, and keep it in repair, the rest of his days.

For the whole world, without a native home,
Is nothing but a prison of larger room.

For the whole world, without a native home,
Is nothing but a prison of larger room.

Where thou art, that is home.

Where thou art, that is home.