In all the lands I’ve traveled, <br />The places I have been, <br />Each man thinks his own land <br />Is the best he’s ever seen. <br /> <br />For the man born in the desert <br />Knows every grain of sand, <br />And acquaintance is the bond that ties <br />One’s heart to familiar land. <br /> <br />Or the man born to the mountain <br />Has climbed each rocky path; <br />No place on earth is dearer <br />Though velvet be its grass. <br /> <br />And the storms that rage a rocky coast <br />Are music to the ears <br />Of one who’s known their lonely cry <br />All through his youthful years. <br /> <br />I've known the joys of many lands, <br />No patriotism for me; <br />For earth belongs to God above, <br />And He sees not human boundary. <br /> <br />Although my heart may sympathize <br />With each man’s claim I meet, <br />Within my heart I realize <br />A lilt to my pilgrim feet. <br /> <br />For every man needs a place on earth <br />To call his very own, <br />And every person of whatever birth <br />Rejoices on the way back home.<br /><br />Adeline Foster<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/home-is-2/
