A Home Song by Henry Van Dyke
I read within a poet's book A word that starred the page: "Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage!"
Yes, that is true; and something more You'll find, where'er you roam, That marble floors and gilded walls Can never make a home.
But every house where Love abides, And Friendship is a guest, Is surely home, and home-sweet-home: For there the heart can rest.
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