The sweetest home is a little home,
With a dear little mother in it;
And if in your heart there's a little song
For the mother you love, begin it;
For this is her hour and this her day,
Though she's living afar or near you;
In a mansion fair or a shack out there,
The mother you love will hear you!

The sweetest home is a quiet home,
With a peace that a mother wills it;
And you're still her child, though you're far away,
For she holds to your heart and fills it
With the memories of a time gone by
When you whispered the prayers she taught you;
And she can't forget, though her eyes be wet,
How great was the price that bought you.

The sweetest home is a God-blest home
That rests near a humble by-way,
And always the fairest one within
Is a mother who shuns the highway
Where evil struts in a robe of red,
Where devilish imps will call you.
Go back to her knee, to her warm arms flee,
And never shall ill befall you!