Mid Pleasures and palaces though I may roam,

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

A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,

Which, seek thro' the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home.



Home! Sweet, sweet home!

There's no place like home.

There's no place like home.



An exile from home, spendor dazzles in vain,

Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again;

The birds singing gaily, that come at my call;

Give me them, with that peace of mind, dearer than all.



CHORUS



To thee, I'll return, overburdened with care,

The heart's dearest solace will smile on me there.

No more from that cottage again will I roam,

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



I gaze on the moon as I tread the drear wild,

And feel like my mother now thinks of her child.

As she looks on that moon from our own cottage door,

Thro' the woodbine whose fragrance shall cheer me no more.



Words by John Howard Payne, music by Henry Rowley Bishop.



The home that Payne wrote of was a little cottage in East

Hampton, Long Island. The song was first heard in London in his

play "Clari" in 1823. The air had appeared in an early

collection of Bishop's as a Sicilian tune. The theme of the song

and the beauty of the melody have given it world-wide fame.



Published 1823, now in public domain.

Source Harmony Heritage Songs #22