The earth hath treasures fair and bright,

Deep buried in her caves,

And ocean hideth many a gem

With his blue, curling waves;

Yet not within her bosom dark,

Or ’neath the dashing foam,

Lives there a treasure equaling

A world of love at home!

True, sterling happiness and joy

Are not with gold allied,

Nor can it yield a pleasure like

A merry fireside.

I envy not the man who dwells

In stately hall or dome,

If, ’mid his splendor, he hath not

A world of love at home.

The friends whom time hath proved sincere,

’Tis they alone can bring

A sure relief to hearts that droop

’Neath sorrow’s heavy wing.

Though care and trouble may be mine,

As down life’s path I roam,

I’ll heed them not while still I have

A world of love at home.