WHERE burns the fireside brightest, Cheering the social breast? Where beats the fond heart lightest, Its humblest hopes possessed? Where is the hour of sadness, With meek-eyed patience borne, Worth more than those of gladness, Which mirth's gay cheeks adorn? Pleasure is marked by fleetness, To those who ever roam; While grief itself has sweetness At home -- sweet home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EMILY SPARKS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS LETTER TO MAXINE SULLIVAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH FAITH by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TUNK (A LECTURE ON MODERN EDUCATION) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE RING AND THE CASTLE by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: REV. LEMUEL WILEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |