HE'S journeyed through America From Canso Cape to Horn, And from East Indian Comorin To Behring's Strait forlorn; He's felled trees in the backwoods, In swamps has gasped for breath; In Tropic heats, in Polar ice, Has often prayed for death. He has fought and bled in civil wars Of no concern to him, Has shot his fellows -- beasts and men -- At risk of life and limb. He has suffered fluxes, fevers, Agues, and ills allied, And now he's home. You look at him As he talks by your fireside. And what is written in his glance Stressed by such foreign wear, After such alien circumstance What does his face declare? His mother's; she who saw him not After his starting year, Who never left her native spot, And lies in the churchyard near. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRAYER FOR COURAGE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: CARL HAMBLIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE WHITE HOUSE by CLAUDE MCKAY UNCLE ANANIAS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON PSALM 42. QUEMADMODUM by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE SCARABAEUS SISYPHUS by MATHILDE BLIND |