p i' the sea
Till fathomless waters cover thee!
For I am living, but thou art dead;
Thou drawest back, I strive ahead
The Day to find.
Thy shells unbind! Night comes behind;
I needs must hurry with the wind
And trim me best for sailing.

SIDNEY LANIER.

A HAPPY LIFE.

How happy is he born and taught
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!

Whose passions not his master's are,
Whose soul is still prepared for death,
Not tied unto the world with care
Of public fame, or private breath.

SIR HENRY WOTTON.

HOME, SWEET HOME!

"Home, Sweet Home" (John Howard Payne, 1791-1852) is a poem that
reaches into the heart. What is home? A place where we experience
independence, safety, privacy, and where we can dispense hospitality.
"The family is the true unit."

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.
Home! Home! sweet, sweet Home!
There's no place like Home! there's no place like Home!

An exile from Home, splendour dazzles in vain;
O, give me my lowly thatched cottage again!
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! there's no place like Home!

How sweet 'tis to sit 'neath a fond father's smile,
And the cares of a mother to soothe and beguile!
Let others delight 'mid new pleasures to roam,
But give me, oh, give me, the pleasures of Home!
Home! Home! sweet, sweet Home!
There's no place like Home! there's no place like Home!

To thee I'll return, overburdened with care;
The heart's dearest solace will smile on me there;
No more from that cottage again will I roam;
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like Home.
Home! Home! sweet, sweet Home!
There's no place like Home! there's no place like Home!

JOHN HOWARD PAYNE.

FROM CASA GUIDI WINDOWS.

JULIET OF NATIONS.

I heard last night a little child go singing
'Neath Casa Guidi windows, by the church,