1 Whatever be our earthly lot,
Wherever we may roam,
Still to our hearts the brightest spot
Is round the hearth at home;
The home of ev'n so lowly birth,
The hearth by which we sat,
No other spot on all the earth
Will ever be like that.
2 And when some little trouble weighed
Upon the childish heart,
Till from our brimming eyes it made
The gushing tear-drops start;
How quick, before the genial glow,
We felt each sorrow cease,
And back the crystal current flow,
To flood our hearts with peace.
3 And brighter with the passing years
Seems childhood's sweet employ,
And even sweeter still appears
Each well-remembered joy;
Around the cheerful hearth at home,
Where we in childhood sat,
No other spot, where-e'er we roam,
Will ever be like that.