The birds singing gaily that came at my call!

Give me them! and the peace of mind, dearer than all.

Home, home! Sweet, Sweet Home!

There's no place like Home!

II

(As Algernon Charles Swinburne might have wrapped it up in variations)

('Mid pleasures and palaces—)

As sea-foam blown of the winds, as blossom of brine that is drifted

Hither and yon on the barren breast of the breeze,

Though we wander on gusts of a god's breath, shaken and shifted,