The Comforts of Home

No Place to Go
by Edgar Guest

The happiest nights I ever know
are those when I’ve no place to go,
and the missus says
when the day is through,
“Tonight we haven’t a thing to do.

Oh, the joy of it– and the peace untold
of sitting ‘round in my slippers old,
with my lamp and book
in my easy chair,
knowing I needn’t go anywhere.

Needn’t hurry my evening meal
nor force the smiles I do not feel,
but can grab a book
from a nearby shelf,
drop all sham and be myself.

Oh, the charm of it and the comfort rare;
nothing on earth that can compare!
And I’m sorry for him
who doesn’t know
the joy of having no place to go.

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