The heaven directed course Of ruling by all-conquering love, Than by the rod of force. Let home be made a sacred shrine, The best, most cherished spot, All others then will surely be Deserted and forgot. Each should uphold the other self, Before the world's keen sight; In thus upholding, each will keep His honour doubly bright. Like Graecian vestals who of yore Believed no duty higher Than tending night and day the flame Of the celestial fire, So let the broad world's denizens Foster this heart-fire bright, Which can their pilgrimage on earth Illume with glorious light. Domestic bliss, how beautiful! No idol is so fair. Set in the royalty of love, What can with it compare? Models of virtue are the homes Where this blest power holds sway, Where parents' words suffice to move Their offspring to obey. I know of such a happy home, Where love-signs rarely cease, And 'tis in very truth a throne Of harmony and peace. Nature's grand law of order there, Reigns with exactness sure The wheels of time glide smoothly through An atmosphere so pure. A group of healthy children six Their happy parents meet, For breakfast where food, simple, pure, Their hungry senses greet. Those budding blossoms of the home With joy-lit life appear, A daily morning glory they, So neat, clean, trim and dear. No wonder if the father's soul, Worships his darling bride,