Our Father, sends the sunshine bright,
Alike to rich and poor;
It addeth to our happiness,
It helpeth to endure.
But when the tempest rules the sky,
And storm clouds gloom above,
Still let us have within our homes,
The sunny light of love.

Chorus: Oh, fill your home with sunshine bright,
Whatever be your lot!
'Tis welcome in the halls of wealth,
And in the lonely cot.

The rich man's heart is often sad,
As is the poorest one
Who labours at his daily task,
From morn till set of sun.
But fill your home with sunny light,
'Twill drive away all gloom,
'Tis brighter than the fairest web,
Of any eastern loom.


Then build fair mansions if ye will,
And raise them to the skies,
Let tier on tier of massive stone,
In vast proportion rise.
Their stately grandeur wins our praise,
Their beauty charms the eye,
But dearer far the sunny rays,
Which round each home should lie.


Our land hath many palaces
Wherein the rich may dwell,
But just as dear it's lowly homes,
To those who love them well.
For God hath sent the sunny light,
Of love to rich and poor,
To add unto our happiness,
And help us to endure.


Written and composed by Julia A. Carney & Charles Baker - 1894
Performed by Bessie Bellwood (1857-1896)
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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