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To make a happy fireside clime
To weans and wife,
That's the true pathos and sublime
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To make a happy fireside clime
To weans and wife,
That's the true pathos and sublime
Of human life.
Home is the place where it feels right to walk around without shoes
Home is the place where it feels right to walk around without shoes
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.
Home is home, though it be never so homely.
Home is home, though it be never so homely.
How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
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How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
Still to ourselves in every place consigned,
Our own felicity we make or find.
With secret course, which no loud storms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.
There's nobody at home
But Jumping Joan,
And father and mother and I.
There's nobody at home
But Jumping Joan,
And father and mother and I.
My whinstone house my castle is,
I have my own four walls.
My whinstone house my castle is,
I have my own four walls.
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.
One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever come to sit by it. Passersby read more
One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever come to sit by it. Passersby see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on the way.