(@3As it might have been constructed in 1744, Oliver Goldsmith, at 19, writing the first stanza, and Alexander Pope, at 52, the second.@1) HOME! at the word, what blissful visions rise, Lift us from earth, and draw us toward the skies; 'Mid mirag'd towers, or meretricious joys, Although we roam, one thought the mind employs: Or lowly hut, good friend, or loftiest dome, Earth knows no spot so holy as our Home. There, where affection warms the father's breast, There is the spot of heav'n most surely blest. Howe'er we search, though wandering with the wind Through frigid Zembla, or the heats of Ind, Not elsewhere may we seek, nor elsewhere know, The light of heaven upon our dark below. When from our dearest hope and haven reft, Delight nor dazzles, nor is luxury left, We long, obedient to our nature's law, To see again our hovel thatched with straw: See birds that know our avenaceous store Stoop to our hand, and thence repleted soar: But, of all hopes the wanderer's soul that share, His pristine peace of mind's his final prayer. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPIRITUAL ISOLATION: A FRAGMENT by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE SWORD AND THE SICKLE by WILLIAM BLAKE CALIBAN UPON SETEBOS; OR, NATURAL THEOLOGY IN THE ISLAND by ROBERT BROWNING THE COCK AND THE BULL by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY ARMS AND THE BOY by WILFRED OWEN |