Mandragora/Exiles
- EXILES
EXILES are we from our very birth,
But strange memorial glimpses come
At cross-roads of this alien earth,
To trouble us with our true home.
A grey tree by a forsaken way,
A forest pool with a shadowy face —
And we breathe deep a moment and say,
"This is the place! This is the place!"
What place? We shall never, never know!
We shall die before our feet have found it.
Yet by its borders all streams flow;
And there's not a wind but blows around it!
It is near, yet far — our natural home.
That an evil magic has hidden aside;
Leaving only tokens of it, that come
To tantalize us and deride.
Exiles are we from our very birth;
And we shall die and be buried far
From that wilder, lovelier, madder earth.
Where the lost gods of our people are!