How can I thank the great Father above
For showing His child such abundance of love?
With Harry a home in a hovel were sweet,
And this is a palace that lies at my feet.
I look at the gardens spread out in the sun,
Where every rosebud a prize might have won;
Where lilies lift up tinted crowns to the skies,
And clematis strike you aghast by their size;
Where lawns smooth as ice tempt your feet as they pass,
Though only a fairy should tread on such grass;