Then tell me not of worldly pride And wild ambition's hopes of fame, Or brilliant halls of wealth and pride, Where genius sighs to win a name; Give _me_ this farm-house quaint and old, These fields of grain, the birds and flowers, With calm contentment, peace and health, And memories of my earlier hours. "'TIS HOME WHERE THE HEART IS." _WORDS BY MISS L. M. BROWN_. MUSIC COMPOSED BY KARL W. PETERSILIE, _Professor of Music at the Edgeworth Seminary, N. C._ Presented by George Willig, No. 171 Chesnut Street, Philad'a. [Copyright secured.] _Expressivo_ [Illustration: music] I've wander'd in climes, where the wild chamois _Con spirito_. strays, Have gain'd the wild height, Where the fierce lightning plays, Seen glory and _crescendo_ greatness in power and might, And honor and splendor sink in darkness of night, I've sought 'mid the crowd, pure pleasure, but pain, As the _dolce_. _Con Anima._ bee, that sips sweets, the poison too drained; Ah! 'twas all delusive, for sorrows would come, Oh, 'tis home where the heart is, where the heart is 'tis home. SECOND VERSE. I've courted the breath of a balm southern clime, Where sweetest of flow'rs, soft tendrils entwine; Have listed the song bird's notes borne on the air, That wakens and wafts the rich odors elsewhere; As tones on the ear so the dream of the past, Softly plays round the heart-green isle of the waste; Yes! 'twas all a life-dream, and still 'tis not gone, Oh, 'tis home where the heart is, where the heart is 'tis home. THIRD VERSE. I've cross'd the blue sea, I've sought out a home In the land of the free, freedom beckon'd me come; And friends of the stranger have sooth'd the sad heart, With kindness and sympathy, sweet balm for the smart; The light of the soul, doth play round it still, Like the perfume the urn, in which roses distil; Thoughts of affection forbid me to roam, Oh, 'tis home where the heart is, where the heart is 'tis home. REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS. _Hawkstone: A Tale of and for England in 184-. New York: Standford & Swords. 2 vols. 12mo._