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From The Poets and Poetry of America (1855)
My place is in the quiet vale,
The chosen haunt of simple thought;
I seek not Fortune's flattering gale,
I better love the peaceful lot.
I leave the world of noise and show,
To wander by my native brook;
I ask, in life's unruffled flow,
No treasure but my friend and book.
These better suit the tranquil home,
Where the clear water murmurs by;
And if I wish a while to roam,
I have an ocean in the sky.
Fancy can charm and feeling bless
With sweeter hours than fashion knows;
There is no calmer quietness
Than home around the bosom throws.
Cite this poem
MLA
Percival, James Gates. “Home.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/percival/22/.
Chicago
Percival, James Gates. “Home.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/percival/22/.
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