'Tis home where'er the heart is,
Where'er its living treasures dwell;
In cabin or in princely hall,
In forest haunt or hermit's cell.
'Tis bright where'er the heart is,
Its fairy spells have pow'r to bring
Fresh fountains to the wilderness,
And to the desert vernal spring.
'Tis free where'er the heart is,
Nor rankling chains, nor dungeon dim,
Can check the mind's aspirings,
The bounding spirits pealing hymn.
The heart gives life its beauty,
Its warmth, its radiance and its power,
Is sunlight to its rippling stream,
And soft dew to its drooping flower.
Hewitt, John Hill, "'Tis Home Where'er the Heart Is" (1844). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 1623.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.