God took a hearth-fire, warm and bright,
And planted love beside it;
Spun happy laughter through its light,
So gay no gloom could hide it.
He wove a golden thread of song
Among the flick’ring shadows,
Like that where days are bright and long
Upon the summer meadows.
He made a sanctuary fair
With His own presence gifted.
He built a holy altar there
Where hearts should oft be lifted.
With His watch-care perennial
He wrapped it ’round and framed it.
He flung a roof above it all,
And Home was what He named it.