| No outward doors of a mans house can in general be broken open to execute any civil process; though in criminal cases the public safety supersedes the private.|
Blackstone (Stephens) Vol. IV. P. 108. (Ed. 1880).
|At length his lonely cot appears in view,|
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
Th expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher thro
To meet their Dad, wi flichterin noise an glee.
BurnsThe Cotters Saturday Night. St. 3.
|To make a happy fireside clime|
To weans and wife,
Thats the true pathos and sublime
Of human life.
BurnsEpistle to Dr. Blacklock.
|Ive read in many a novel, that unless theyve souls that grovel|
Folks prefer in fact a hovel to your dreary marble halls.
CalverleyIn the Gloaming.
|My whinstone house my castle is,|
I have my own four walls.
CarlyleMy Own Four Walls.
|When the hornet hangs in the holly hock,|
And the brown bee drones i the rose,
And the west is a red-streaked four-oclock,
And summer is near its close
ItsOh, for the gate, and the locust lane;
And dusk, and dew, and home again!
Madison CaweinIn the Lane.
|Old homes! old hearts! Upon my soul forever|
Their peace and gladness lie like tears and laughter.
Madison CaweinOld Homes.
|Nullus est locus domestica sede jucundior.|
There is no place more delightful than ones own fireside.
CiceroEpistles. IV. 8.
|Home is home, though it be never so homely.|
John ClarkeParoemiologia. P. 101.
|For a mans house is his castle.|
Sir Edward CokeInstitutes. Pt. III. Against Going, or Riding Armed. P. 162.
| The house of every one is to him as his castle and fortress, as well for his defence against injury and violence, as for his repose.|
Sir Edward CokeReports, Semaynes Case. Vol. III. Pt. V. P. 185.
|For the whole world, without a native home,|
Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
CowleyTo the Bishop of Lincoln. L. 27.
|I am far frae my hame, an Im weary aften whiles,|
For the longed-for hame-bringing an my Fathers welcome smiles.
Erastus EllsworthMy Ain Countrie. See Moody and Sankeys Hymns, No. 5.
|The house is a castle which the King cannot enter.|
EmersonEnglish Traits. Wealth.
|Theres nobody at home|
But Jumping Joan,
And father and mother and I.
George GascoigneTale of Ieronimi. (1577).
|The whitewashd wall, the nicely sanded floor,|
The varnishd clock that clickd behind the door;
The chest contrivd a double debt to pay,
A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.
GoldsmithThe Deserted Village. L. 227.
|At night returning, every labour sped,|
He sits him down, the monarch of a shed;
Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys
His childrens looks, that brighten at the blaze;
While his lovd partner, boastful of her hoard,
Displays her cleanly platter on the board.
GoldsmithThe Traveller. L. 191.
|How small of all that human hearts endure,|
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
Still to ourselves in every place consigned,
Our own felicity we make or find.
With secret course, which no loud storms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.
GoldsmithThe Traveller. L. 429.
|What if in Scotlands wilds we veild our head,|
Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed;
Where the rugs two-fold use we might display,
By night a blanket, and a plaid by day.
E. B. G.Attributed in the British Museum Cat. to Edward Burnaby Greene. (1764). The Satires of Juvenal Paraphrastically Imitated, and adapted to the Times.
|The stately Homes of England,|
How beautiful they stand!
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
Oer all the pleasant land.
Felicia D. HemansHomes of England.
|My house, my house, though thou art small,|
Thou art to me the Escurial.
HerbertJacula Prudentum. No. 416.
|His native home deep imagd in his soul.|
HomerOdyssey. Bk. XIII. L. 38. Popes trans.
|Peace and rest at length have come,|
All the days long toil is past;
And each heart is whispering, Home,
Home at last!
HoodHome At Last.
|Who hath not met with home-made bread,|
A heavy compound of putty and lead
And home-made wines that rack the head,
And home-made liquors and waters?
Home-made pop that will not foam,
And home-made dishes that drive one from home
* * * * * *
Home-made by the homely daughters.
|The beauty of the house is order,|
The blessing of the house is contentment,
The glory of the house is hospitality.
| Appeles usd to paint a good housewife upon a snayl; which intimated that she should be as slow from gadding abroad, and when she went she should carry her house upon her back; that is, she should make all sure at home.|
HowellParly of Beasts. (1660). P. 58.
| I think some orator commenting upon that fate said that though the winds of heaven might whistle around an Englishmans cottage, the King of England could not.|
John J. Ingalls. In the U. S. Senate. May 10, 1880.
|As a lodge in a garden of cucumbers.|
Isaiah. I. 8.
| Our law calleth a mans house, his castle, meaning that he may defend himselfe therein.|
LambardEiren. II. VII. 257. (1588).
|Cling to thy home! If there the meanest shed|
Yield thee a hearth and shelter for thy head,
And some poor plot, with vegetables stored,
Be all that Heaven allots thee for thy board,
Unsavory bread, and herbs that scatterd grow
Wild on the river-brink or mountain-brow;
Yet een this cheerless mansion shall provide
More hearts repose than all the world beside.
|Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest;|
Home-keeping hearts are happiest,
For those that wander they know not where
Are full of trouble and full of care;
To stay at home is best.
LongfellowSong. St. 1.
| A house of dreams untold,|
It looks out over the whispering treetops,
And faces the setting sun.
Edward Macdowell. Heading to From a Log Cabin. Inscribed on memorial tablet near his grave.
|I in my own house am an emperor,|
And will defend whats mine.
MassingerRoman Actor. Act I. Sc. 2.
|It is for homely features to keep home.|
They had their name thence.
MiltonComus. L. 748.
|Far from all resort of mirth,|
Save the cricket on the hearth.
MiltonIl Penseroso. L. 81.
|His home, the spot of earth supremely blest,|
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.
MontgomeryWest Indies. Pt. III. L. 67.
|Who has not felt how sadly sweet|
The dream of home, the dream of home,
Steals oer the heart, too soon to fleet,
When far oer sea or land we roam?
MooreThe Dream of Home. St. 1.
|Subduing and subdued, the petty strife,|
Which clouds the colour of domestic life;
The sober comfort, all the peace which springs
From the large aggregate of little things;
On these small cares of daughter, wife or friend,
The almost sacred joys of home depend.
|Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,|
Be it ever so humble, theres no place like Home.
J. Howard PayneHome Sweet Home. Song in Clari, The Maid of Milan.
| The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all the force of the Crown. It may be frail, its roof may shake; the wind may blow through it; the storms may enter,the rain may enter,but the King of England cannot enter; all his forces dare not cross the threshold of the ruined tenement!|
William Pitt (Earl of Chatham)Speech on the Excise Bill.
|Home is where the heart is.|
|My lodging is in Leather-Lane,|
A parlor thats next to the sky;
Tis exposed to the wind and the rain,
But the wind and the rain I defy.
W. B. RhodesBombastes Furioso. Sc. 4.
|Just the wee cotthe crickets chirr|
Love and the smiling face of her.
James Whitcomb RileyIke Waltons Prayer.
|To fireside happiness, to hours of ease|
Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.
Saml RogersHuman Life. L. 347.
|Gallus in sterquilinio suo plurimum potest.|
The cock is at his best on his own dunghill.
SenecaDe Morte Claudii.
|And Ill still stay, to have thee still forget,|
Forgetting any other home but this.
Romeo and Juliet. Act II. Sc. 2. L. 175.
|That is my home of love.|
|Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.|
Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 2.
|Ma meason est a moy come mon castel, hors de quel le ley ne moy arta a fuer.|
My house is to me as my castle, since the law has not the art to destroy it.
StaunfordePlees del Coron. 14 B. (1567).
| Home is the resort|
Of love, of joy, of peace, and plenty; where
Supporting and supported, polished friends
And dear relations mingle into bliss.
ThomsonThe Seasons. Autumn. L. 65.
|Though home be but homely, yet huswife is taught|
That home hath no fellow to such as have aught.
TusserPoints of Huswifery. Instructions to Huswifery. VIII. P. 243. (1561).
|I read within a poets book|
A word that starred the page,
Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage.
Yes, that is true, and something more:
Youll find, whereer you roam,
That marble floors and gilded walls
Can never make a home.
But every house where Love abides
And Friendship is a guest,
Is surely home, and home, sweet home;
For there the heart can rest.
Henry Van DykeHome Song.
|They dreamt not of a perishable home.|
WordsworthInside of Kings College Chapel, Cambridge.
|The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay,|
Provides a home from which to run away.
YoungLove of Fame. Satire I. L. 171.