Home's not a house, home is a heart To which you come at night; Home is a shrine, a thing apart, An altar lamp alight. The journey o'er, the long day through, Home is a heart awaiting you. How low your roof I do not care, How high your ivied towers; If not a heart is waiting there That counts the weary hours, You are as homeless as the poor Who sleep unsheltered on the moor. But if you have a hearth, a home, A chair, a glowing fire, A wife awaiting while you roam, And children for their sire, Let neither gold nor pleasure blind, Nor think a greater joy to find. Come home, for home is always best, However loud the song; Come home, for home is tenderest, And right, and never wrong; Come home, for fear some foolish day You stay too long, and lose the way. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE ROCK THAT WILL BE A CORNERSTONE OF THE HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS HOW MY HEART SINKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: SHACK DYE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 9 by EZRA POUND GOLDWING MOTH by CARL SANDBURG INSCRIPTIONS: 1. FOR A GROTTO by MARK AKENSIDE FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |