Longing for Home: A Poem

Longing for Home

Unto me, through the open casement, Floats an odor of faint perfume, The breath of awakening blossoms, Pervading my quiet room. And below, down there in the garden, Are great, bright-winged butterflies, All sipping the wonderful nectar That deep in each fairy heart lies.

Though the glorious benediction Of nature is everywhere, Yet my heart, withal, madly pulses, It may not the wonderment share.

For ne'er doth the cadence of voices, To me so beloved, so well known, Beguile with that mystical gladness That hallows the meaning of home.

Home! home! Through this world though we wander, Our eyes turn with longing to you. Home! home! where our childish petitions Were lisped in faith, fervent and true. Home! home! where a mother is waiting To clasp you once more to her breast, There to lie passive and peaceful, Oh, haven of infinite rest!

Home! home! oh! it lines the feet upward, For heaven, me thinks, would be lone, Without the loved faces and voices That gather around us at home. Grace Ingles Frost.