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?
The Dream of Home.
To Greece we give our shining blades.
Evenings in Greece. First Evening.
When thus the heart is in a vein
Of tender thought, the simplest strain
Can touch it with peculiar power.