[Written for the Sentinel]


Home is a word with the sweetest ring,
But few can its spirit discern;
It is not a place or a composite thing,
Which we may inherit or earn.

Home is the light in an earnest face,
The tone of a tender voice,
The intercommunion of truth and grace,
That maketh the heart rejoice.

Oh, what a comforting, blessed thought!
Where'er in the world we roam,
If we are but true to its spirit, naught
Can separate us from home.

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