The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, 1860-01-26
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J Home ~

Home. oN
Z How sweet the word i-how pleasant does II
fall upon the ear Of every individual-and who
docs not loveo think and lisp the sweet, the sa
cred name. Homci He answers none--ccrtainly
there can be no one. bnt loves 70 think on the
joys of home. All seem to be bound to it by
thousand ties. Let us wander back, and in fan.
ey live over some Of those happy days we spent
when child in our good old home. Then, and
there, all was sunshine, bright, beautiful sun
shine-no dark cloud was permitted TO hover
Ger us any length Of time did one make its
appearance it was soon dispelled by sunny faces
and merry voices. Then We took q delight in
sporting over the green cushioned meadows, lis
tening to the sweet little warbers as they perclI
ed themselves in the topmost bough of some
huge old oak, that looked as if it had stood for a
century, or lettering now and then along the
margin of some sparkling rivule., as it danced on
down in the bright sunlight toward old ocean, or
plucking the choicest flowers, to weave crown
for the brow of some sunny faced schoolmate--
now and then reclining under some cool shade,
tracing figures in the clouds, &c. Then every
external object wore smiling face--and oil
within was gladness and peaee-"joy seemed to
gnsh from thousand springs" All these go to
endear home to us; but are there not dearer
hcsi Oh, yes, much dearer ones than any that
have been named There We had a dotinr fn-
ther, an affectionatc mother, kind brothers and
sisters, who rea..y to share all our ioys
oil our sorrows Yes, friends who were ever
ready to respond to our every feeling, thought
and sentiment--whose hearts beat in unison with
ours. How unlike the cold and heartless world
where each person seems to think he has attain.
ed the grent object Of life, if he but live to him
self. When we contrast " the rude buffeting Of
an ungracious world" with that of n hnppy
home, need we wonder that so many sweet harps
have been tuned to sing that good old song.
"IIome, sweet Home ?" Then, again. we would
ask who does not love Homel Show me the
man that says he cares naught for the joys of
home, and I'll show you an outcnst--one that is
pest to himself and society. W e may wander
for years, far, far from the land of our. birth,
mingle with the gay-form new ties Of intimacy
and friendship, forget for time our happy home,
and ihe companions OF cur childhood, but per-
chance ms we sit some sweet summer we, admir-
ing the works Of nature, gentle zephyr is watt
ed along, and it seems to whisper, Home Then
arc the tenderest chords touched, and ere we are
aware of it, melancholy spirit steals over US
in fancy we ronrn over familiar scencs-we at
one time converse with old friends--pre.s the
hand of old associates, long since cold in the
grave, and listen to voices we shall nc'er hear
on earth again. When aroused from this state
Of dreaminess, sigh for Home, sweet Home
Think you not the stout hearted mariner, as he
sits on deck, watching the last laet lingering
rays OF the departing sun, as they are reflected
upon the waters of the deep blue sea- sighs for
home, and loved friends there2 yes, imagine
see the tears steal down his check, when he be.
holds in the future long, long years he will yet
be upon the stormy deep, and In all probability
never reach home again. No doubt he often ex-
claims, 90 would | were n boy again" The
poor unlettered "rcd man" exclaims to my
home in the West, LET me GO let me 60"
where sparkling waters dance aud play, and
bright prairies bloom, and shed their fragrance
round--where ] can roam unmolested DER the
widespread forest, and chase the bounding deer.
o it's the home of my childhood, and there let
ne stay" Then, home is sweet place to all
No matter what condition in life is, thoughts
Of home are sweet thoughts. ....... .... r
MY home, love It, and often willi
Let thought Of that place my bosom fill,
And whatever my lot on earth may be, ... .,..
That much loved spot shall have charms for me-
CARnn CoUEILASD.