I want a humble little house Whose shingled roof is low; A house with threshold worn quite thin By feet that come and go. I want wide windows that will glow With welcome wreathed about, That all who suffer may come in, And, comforted, go out. Hospitable my house must be; And, though the rooms are small, Its heart-of-home will somehow hold Enough of room for all. I want my lowly house to have Comradely atmosphere, That poverty or pain may say: "A friend of mine lives here!" |