Those budding blossoms of the home
With joy-lit life appear,
A daily morning glory they,
So neat, clean, trim and dear.

No wonder if the father's soul,
Worships his darling bride,
No wonder if his manly heart,
Swells with delighted pride:
For does she not make home a shrine,
Where love and duty vie
To honour, through her peerless love,
Their holy marriage tie?

He daily leaves his happy home,
Next heaven the holiest place,
Strengthened by her sweet words and kiss,
For action in life's race.
And she through all her daily rounds,
Thinks foremost of the one,
Who no less now than years ago,
Her steadfast love has won.

God bless them in their happy home!
God bless their children nine!
And may they through a peaceful life,
Ever in love combine,
To aid and cheer each other here,
And when this life is past,
Be reunited in that life