Page:Poems E. L. F.djvu/123

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home.

There is a joy in home,
Where'er affections dwell,
And sweetest words of sympathy
Awake the inward spell—
Where not a trace of selfishness
Nor angry words intrude,
Where life seems peace and joyousness,
Earth beautiful and good.

These are the joys of home,
To those who would embrace
A something of more lasting worth
Than in the world we trace;—
A world where pleasure weaves with woe
A wreath of thorny flowers,
And in whose gayest scenes of mirth
There lurk embittered hours.

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