Hill people turn to their hills; Sea-folk are sick for the sea: Thou art my land and my country, And my heart calls out for thee. The bird beats his wings for the open, The captive burns to be free; But I -- I cry at thy window, For thou art my liberty. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DESIRE OF NATIONS by EDWIN MARKHAM BEFORE MARCHING, AND AFTER (IN MEMORIAM F.W.G.) by THOMAS HARDY A CHILD'S SONG OF CHRISTMAS by MARJORIE LOWRY CHRISTIE PICKTHALL WATER WOMAN by JOSEPH AUSLANDER ON THE MEANING OF THE WORD 'WRATH' AS APPLIED TO GOD IN SCRIPTURE by JOHN BYROM TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. ALL NIGHT LONG by EDWARD CARPENTER |