English poem
Home
"Where shall we dwell?" say you. Wandering winds reply: "In a temple with roof of blue —Under the splendid sky." Never a nobler home We'll find though an age we try Than is arched by the azure dome Of the all-enfolding sky. Here we are wed, and here We live under God's own eye. "Where shall we dwell," my dear? —Under the splendid sky."