WITHOUT a home at holy Christmas-tide, Sad-hearted at the feast of all the year, These were strange words you told me, Phoebe dear; I have no social joys when all beside Meet with such blessed mirth round happy fires. When the long-parted greet and draw fresh love From ceaseless flow of talk that never tires; Through all the homes there is no place for me. No place, no room; dear friend, if it can be One thought of joy to you, then know My heart grew larger at your words, as though It would have answered, "Hearts are homes, look in and see." Yes, hearts are homes, and O! all hearts above, There is a heart of hearts, a love of love, A boundless home, one that for aye endures; Hide in God's heart, beloved, that great Home is yours. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FINE DAY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD ABANDONED RANCH, BIG BEND by HAYDEN CARRUTH NO MATTER WHAT, AFTER ALL, AND THAT BEAUTIFUL WORD SO by HAYDEN CARRUTH SISTER MARIA CELESTE, GALILEO'S DAUGHTER, WRITES TO FRIEND by MADELINE DEFREES THE ROAD TO AVIGNON by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JONAS KEENE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |