COME home, come home! and where is home for me. Whose ship is driving o'er the trackless sea? To the frail bark here plunging on its way, To the wild waters, shall I turn and say To the plunging bark, or to the salt sea foam, You are my home? Fields once I walked in, faces once I knew, Familiar things so old my heart believed them true, These far, far back, behind me lie, before The dark clouds mutter, and the deep seas roar, And speak to them that 'neath and o'er them roam No words of home. Beyond the clouds, beyond the waves that roar, There may indeed, or may not be, a shore, Where fields as green, and hands and hearts as true, The old forgotten semblance may renew, And offer exiles driven far o'er the salt sea foam Another home. But toil and pain must wear out many a day, And days bear weeks, and weeks bear months away, Ere, if at all, the weary traveller hear, With accents whispered in his wayworn ear, A voice he dares to listen to, say, Come To thy true home. Come home, come home! and where a home hath he Whose ship is driving o'er the driving sea? Through clouds that mutter, and o'er waves that roar Say, shall we find, or shall we not, a shore That is, as is not ship or ocean foam, Indeed our home? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. CHARLES BLISS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS EXILED by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY SONNET: 33 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE TO SPAIN - A LAST WORD by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS A WINTER PIECE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH INVITATION by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 35. BALACLAVA by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |