'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble there's no place like home. A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, Which, seek thro' the world is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home, Home, Home sweet home. There's no place like home, Oh, there's no place like home. I gaze on the moon as I tread the drear wild, And feel that my mother now thinks of her child. As she looks on that moon from our own cottage door, Thro' the woodbine whose fragrance shall cheer me no more. Home, Home... An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain, Oh give me my lowly thatch'd cottage again. The birds singing gaily that came at my call, Give me them and that peace of mind dearer than all.
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