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.