At Home By Mary Tarver Carroll

You may seek for the end of the rainbow
Over mountains and valleys afar,
You may wend weary miles in your questing
Until evening blossoms a star—
When homeward you turn, disappointed,
Heartsick at the end of your dream—
You see from your small cottage window
A bright, broad ruddy beam
That beckons you in “O come hither,
Too long from the fireside you roam,
The goal of real joy that you seek for
Is found nowhere else but at home!”