“Thou shalt be free in this mansion From sorrow and pain of heart, For the peace of God shall enter, And never again depart.” HOME, SWEET HOME. Sharers of a common country, They had met in deadly strife; Men who should have been as brothers Madly sought each other’s life. In the silence of the even, When the cannon’s lips were dumb, Thoughts of home and all its loved ones To the soldier’s heart would come. On the margin of a river, ’Mid the evening’s dews and damps, Could be heard the sounds of music Rising from two hostile camps. One was singing of its section Down in Dixie, Dixie’s land, And the other of the banner Waved so long from strand to strand. In the land where Dixie’s ensign Floated o’er the hopeful slave, Rose the song that freedom’s banner, Starry-lighted, long might wave. From the fields of strife and carnage, Gentle thoughts began to roam, And a tender strain of music Rose with words of “Home, Sweet Home.” Then the hearts of strong men melted, For amid our grief and sin Still remains that “touch of nature,” Telling us we all are kin. In one grand but gentle chorus, Floating to the starry dome, Came the words that brought them nearer, Words that told of “Home, Sweet Home.” For awhile, all strife forgotten, They were only brothers then, Joining in the sweet old chorus, Not as soldiers, but as men. Men whose hearts would flow together, Though apart their feet might roam, Found a tie they could not sever, In the mem’ry of each home. Never may the steps of carnage Shake our land from shore to shore, But may mother, home and Heaven, Be our watchwords evermore. THE PURE IN HEART SHALL SEE GOD. They shall see Him in the crimson flush Of morning’s early light, In the drapery of sunset, Around the couch of night. When the clouds drop down their fatness, In late and early rain, They shall see His glorious footprints On valley, hill and plain.