<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=392081" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Home of My Heart</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not here in the populous town,<br>In the playhouse or mart,<br>Not here in the ways gray and brown,<br>Bnt afar on the green-swelling down,<br>Is the home of my heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There the hillside slopes down to a dell<br>Whence a streamlet has start;<br>There are woods and sweet grass on the swell,<br>And the south winds and west know it well:<br>‘Tis the home of my heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There’s a cottage o’ershadowed by leaves<br>Growing fairer than art,<br>Where under the low sloping eaves -<br>No false hand the swallow bereaves:<br>‘Tis the home of my heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there as you gaze down the lea,<br>Where the trees stand apart,<br>Over grassland and woodland may be<br>You will catch the faint gleam of the sea<br>From the home of my heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there In the rapturous spring,<br>When the morning rays dart<br>O’er the plain, and the morning birds sing,<br>You may see the most beautiful thing<br>In the home of my heart;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For there at the casement above,<br>Where the rosebushes part,<br>Will blush the fair face of my love:<br>Ah, yes I It is this that will prove<br>‘Tis the home of my heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Francis+William+Bourdillon">Francis William Bourdillon</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=392081" data-title="The Home of My Heart de Francis William Bourdillon" data-description="Not here in the populous town, In the playhouse or mart, Not here in the ways gray and brown, Bnt afar on the green-swelling down, Is the home of my heart. There the hillside slopes down to a dell Whence a streamlet has start; There are woods and..."></div> </div> </div>

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