God send us a little home, To come back to, when we roam.
Low walls, and fluted tiles, Wide windows, a view for miles.
Red firelight and deep chairs, Small white beds upstairs—
Great talk in little nooks. Dim colours, rows of books.
One picture on each wall, Not many things at all.
God send us a little ground. Tall trees standing round.
Homely flowers in brown sod. Overhead, Thy stars, O God.
God bless, when winds blow, Our home, and all we know.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.