Classic Poem

Whatever other worlds may be,
Wherever be those realms of bliss,
I only hope that those I see
Will turn out half as good as this.
The grass cannot be greener there,
Nor any birds that sweeter sing,
Nor can there be a silkier air
Than that which comes with dawning spring.

Can summer breezes softer blow?
Can any stars wear friendlier mien?
Hath any embers richer glow
Than those that on my hearth are seen?
Are flowers sweeter to the sense,
Can roses tell us more of love,
Or dress with more magnificence
In other worlds we know not of?

Nowhere can sunbeams happier play
Than on this blessed earth we know;
And even when the days are gray,
And all is hid in drift and snow,
What rarer joys can there beguile,
When twilight with its peace hath come,
Than that unfailing radiant smile
With which affection calls us home?