Page:Home; or, The unlost paradise (IA homeorunlostpara00palm).pdf/85

With all sweet odors, ever restless still;
Loftier thy purpose, more sublime thy thought
Than childhood ever knew, or e'er could know.
A youthful band—their souls all closely knit
In the pure love that of one blood and birth
By nature's law doth ever richly spring,
As from full fountains, in the cloistered Home,
A scene present on which e'en Heaven must smile.

  Nor moves the round of household pleasures on
In dull monotony that needs must cloy.
Home hath its festal days—its holy times times—
When fresh delights exhilarate; when Mirth
Seizes the sceptre and asserts her reign,
And Laughter, her prime minister, she bids
Wake rapturous echoes all her realm around!
When on affection's altar, with one will,
The gathered household their fresh offerings lay;
Intent that there, like holy altar fire,
Love's quenchless flame may ever brightly burn.