THERE'S a beautiful realm in the far away past,
All lovely with sunshine and flowers,
And voice as sweet as the songs of the birds,
Laugh away the bright, happy hours.
I can hear them now come echoing back,
As I watch the starry dome,
And memory bells chime soft and low--
Home, Sweet Home.

There's a coming step! now a gentle hand
Rests lightly upon my brow--
A whispered word and the sweet caress
Call me back to the beautiful now;
To another realm where flowers bloom,
From which nothing can tempt me to roam,
And my heart-throbs chime with voices swept,
Home, Sweet Home.

The voices loved so in that long ago,
And those which make music now,
The coming step and the hand whose touch
Lingers gently on my brow--
I hope to greet in that fadeless realm,
Beyond the starry dome,
Where angel voices welcomes breathe, to
Home, Sweet Home.