HIS PARLOR MAY NOT BE THE GRANDEST.
Copyright, 1895, by Louis Haas.
Words and Music by Harry S. Miller.
There's many a home in which grandeur is shown
Where luxury and wealth, too, abound:
But with all of their luxury how little is known
Of happiness seldom there found;
But for happiness take the mechanic to-day,
Whose house is his palace And throne,
He's happier, by far, than the roost of them are,
And he lives in a workingman's home.
Though his parlor may not be the grandest,
It's cheerful and bright though for all;
There's always a welcome awaiting
For any old friend who may call,
And, at night, when his meal it is over,
A romp with the baby alone,
While the wife she stands by, with a smile in her eye,
She's the pride of a workingman's home.
His table is plain, yet he doesn't complain,
You're welcome to share what he's got;
And he covets not luxury, nor asks for the same,
Contented is he with his lot;
And then should a wand'rer, of assistance in need,
But call, or from hunger alone,
He's never abused, And he's never refused,
At the door of a workingman's home. - Chorus.
His house may be small, though it's tidy for all,
Devoid of luxury so rare;
And he cares not for splendor, but If you should call,
Real happiness you will find there.
There's no tapestries hang in his parlor or hall,
No pictures of art are there shown;
His pictures, so worn, are of loved ones that's gone
Evermore from a workingman's home.-Chorus.