The Poetry Corner

The Dream Of Home.

By Thomas Moore

Who has not felt how sadly sweet The dream of home, the dream of home, Steals o'er the heart, too soon to fleet, When far o'er sea or land we roam? Sunlight more soft may o'er us fall, To greener shores our bark may come; But far more bright, more dear than all, That dream of home, that dream of home. Ask the sailor youth when far His light bark bounds o'er ocean's foam, What charms him most, when evening's star Smiles o'er the wave? to dream of home. Fond thoughts of absent friends and loves At that sweet hour around him come; His heart's best joy where'er he roves, That dream of home, that dream of home.