Digital primer

REFRAIN:
There is no place like home, they say,
No matter where it be;
The lordly mansion of the rich,
The hut of poverty.
The little cot, the tenement,
The white-winged ship at sea;
The heart will always seek its home,
Wherever it may be.
CHORUS:
Sweet, sweet home!
To that sweet place where youth was passed our thoughts will turn;
Sweet, sweet home!
Will send the blood to flaming face, and hearts will burn.
Sweet, sweet home!
It binds us to our native land where'er we roam,
No land so fair, no sky so blue,
As those we find when back we come to sweet, sweet home!
"Of course you know that lovely song, 'Juanita'?" said Alice.
"Certainly," said Quincy, and he sang the first line of the chorus.
Alice's voice joined in with his, and they finished the chorus together.
A thrill went through Quincy as he sang the last line, and he was
conscious that his voice quivered when he came to the words, "Be my own
fair bride.


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