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Home.
127.2

Sometimes, in dreams, I see a room
With massive walls and fair;
Rose-shaded lights shut out the gloom,
The air is sweet with flowers in bloom.
And you are there.

Sometimes, the room I see in dreams
Is homely, small, and bare;
The table waits, the kettle steams,
O’er all the cheery firelight streams,
And you are there.

What matter, dear, which dream comes true;
The mansion rich and rare,
The little cottage hid from view
In God’s own sunshine, wind and dew
If you are there.