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I read within a poet’s book
A word that starred the page:
"Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage!"
Yes, that is true; and something more
You’ll find, where’er you roam,
That marble floors and gilded walls
Can never make a home.
But every house where Love abides,
And Friendship is a guest,
Is surely home, and home-sweet-home:
For there the heart can rest.
This poem is in the public domain.
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Henry van Dyke (1852 - 1933) was born in Pennsylvania. A nature lover and avid reader, he earned degrees from Princeton then served as a Presbyterian minister for more than 20 years. (He was considered one of the best preachers in New York City.) He eventually returned to Princeton, where he spent nearly 20 years as a professor of English--with a bit of service as the U.S. ambassador to Luxembourg and the Netherlands in between. A writer whose talent extended to many different genres, Henry's best known works are probably the lyrics of the hymn "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee" and the Christmas stories, "The Story of the Other Wise Man" and "The First Christmas Tree."
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SandyC:
I have this poem hanging on my wall. My grandmother illustrated the artwork with his poem and on the back it's dated 1926-27. So special!
Posted 04/08/2022 12:40 AM
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paradea:
I love this poem!!!
Posted 11/24/2018 09:18 AM
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wordartdjc:
Yes, at times we cannot compete with the poem so heartfelt of earlier years. He certainly had a way with giving us the short but meaningful feelings of what a home really means.
Posted 11/24/2018 08:57 AM
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