No Place Like Home by Treasure Trove

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D.C. · Jan 28, 1904

“No Place Like Home”

By Treasure Trove

“I HATE this little, low-roofed house, This hill-bound valley home; I long to see the glorious world, And ’mid new scenes to roam!

“The sun just rises here, and sets, The days are all the same; There’s nothing grand to do or see, And everything is tame.”

Years passed. The boy of restless heart Had wandered far and wide, Had tossed upon the ocean wave, And climbed the Jungfrau’s side;

Had journeyed through the Golden Gate To storied Eastern lands, And pitched his tent where Afric’s streams “Roll down their golden sands;”

Had glided through the Grand Canal, ’Neath soft Venetian skies, And in strange northern lands had seen The sun at midnight rise.

Through many cities grand and great In wonder he had trod, And on historic battle-fields His feet had pressed the sod.

He roamed through galleries of art, And palaces of kings, And filled his memory with store Of rare and wondrous things.

And then he came to that small vale, Content no more to roam, And said: “There’s not in all the world So sweet a place as home!”

— Treasure Trove.