Page:New minstrel.pdf/8



'Mid pleasures and palaces, though we may

Be it ever so humble, there's no place like

A charm from the skies seems to hallow us

Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met elsewhere.

Home, home, sweet, sweet home!

There's no place like home! There's no like home!

An exile from home, splendour dazzles in

Oh! give me my lowly thatched cottage

The birds singing gaily, that came at my call

Give me them, with the peace of mind, dearest all.

Home, home! sweet, sweet home!

There's no place like home! There's no like home!





When in the storm, on Albions coast,

The night watch guards his wary post,

From thoughts of danger free,

He marks some vessel's dusky form,

And hears amid the howling storm,

The minute gun at sea,

The minute gun at sea.

And hears amid the howling storm,

The minute gun at sea.

Swift on the shore a hardy few

The life-boat man with a gallant crew,

And dare the dang'rous wave;