A poem to share.......
Sweet is the hour that brings us home,
Where all will spring to meet us;
Where hands are striving as we come,
To be the first to greet us.
When the world hath spent its frowns and wrath,
And care been sorely pressing;
"Tis sweet to turn from our roving path,
And find a fireside blessing.
Oh! Joyfully dear is the homeward track,
If we are but sure of a welcome back.
Eliza Cook
