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Prison Poetry

Reflections.

Reading edition

How pleasant it is to be at home, Surrounded by those we love;

How sweet to list to words of cheer

That softly fall on the listening ear Like the notes of a cooing dove.

How the soft caress of a loving hand Can dry the eyes that weep!

How the mind is eased and the pulses thrill

As we feel the strength of a loving will That rocks our grief to sleep.

How soft that hand has ever been When sickness laid us low,

How its soft caress could summon rest

And bring relief to the laboring breast, And cool the fever's glow.

How soft the light in love-lit eye, That welcomes our safe return;

How the tender kiss and warm embrace

Can soothe the pain of late disgrace When fate has been too stern.

God bless the home where love abides— 'Tis the dearest spot on earth!

Be it hovel or palace, or great or small,

It holds man's hope, his joy, his all, And heaven gave it birth!

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