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THOSE WITH ME 127
Who knows not love in the small and near,
The many in memory hold not dear.
q Who cannot build him a house his own,
} What towers he builds will be soon o’erthrown.
1 From Moscow victor to Carthagena,
‘ He vanquished dies on his Saint Helena.
When such a stronghold you ’ve reared with labor,
It often safely protects your neighbor;
Though work of woman’s and children’s hands,
Your soul finds strength where that fortress stands,
You go hence braver to battle-dangers,
Can courage give unto countless strangers.
One home bore often a whole land’s fate,
And sent the hero who saved the state;
Thousands of homes, when the war was o’er,
The land delivered in safety bore.
So bear it onward in peace and beauty
The hearts of homes beating true to duty.
OEE AEE: Se
Though foreign perfumes be fine and rare,
Still pure alone is the home’s sweet air.
Naught meets you there but the childlike, truthful,
And sin is kissed from your forehead ruthful.
To heaven’s home leads its door ajar,
For thence it came and it lies not far.
Good cheer, to church on your way not staying!
For those we love we shall both be praying;
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