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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. An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain;
Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again! The birds singing gayly, that come at my call --
Give me them -- and the peace of min
d, dearer than all! I gaze on the moon as I tread the drear wild,
And feel that my mother now thinks of her child,
As she looks on that moon from our own cottage door
Thro' the woodbine, whose fragrance shall cheer me no more. How sweet 'tis to sit 'neath a fond father's smile,
And the caress 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. There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!
