288 WILLIAM DANA EMERSON. [1840-50. Who looks on all, It follows the declining Sun With the eye of one, Along the banks of Oregon ; Who can dare to call It will be where he lays his pillow The world his own ; Upon the wide Pacific's billow. For all mankind are brothers, And what is one man's is another's, The West ! the West ! and o'er the sea. The vast estate of one Kind Sire ; Fast as the Sun the shadows flee ; The Sun is but a family fire ! Religion, Learning, Freedom high, Their mantles drop while passing by ; On China's towei-s their flag is gleaming, And wakes whole empires from their dreaming. WHO IS RICH? The West ! the West ! still onward west ; 'Tis he through whose deep channeled soul, And now the Earth indeed is bless'd ; The steady stream of Time shall roll, Lo ! here the spot where Eden stood. And leave its gold and gems behind, And there where Jesus shed his blood! To fill the coffers of the mind ; The morning star above suspended ! Who has a home in every clime. The East and West together blended ! A heavenly Friend in every time ; Who calls the blooming Earth his mother, And every son of Earth his brother : Heaven keeps for him a golden niche — He has the world, and he is rich. THE DYING SAINT. Let me go! my Saviour calls me. Lo ! I see his smiling eye ; THE WEST. If 'tis death that now befalls me, 'Tis a blessed thing to die. The West ! the West ! the sunset clime. Glories on my vision flow ; The last, the loveliest path of Time ; Oh ! to reach them let me go ! Where Glory spreads his loftiest flight. Ere Fate shall bid the world good night. Now I see mv scuardian angel And Spirit rises high and higher, Waiting, watching round my bed ; Above the old earth's funeral pyre ! See ! he bears a crown of glory, A Soon to place it on my head; The West ! the West ! the favored East There the Lamb of God I meet — Has spread for thee her treasured feast ; I will cast it at his feet. Her commerce brings that science here. Which cost a dozen centuries dear ; Hark, I hear those angel voices ! And Liberty, that fled her shore. Hark ! they bid me quickly come, Rises on thee to set no more ! All is ready, all is waiting ; List ! I hear them say, come home ! The West ! the West ! where is the West? Brother, sister, you will come ; 'Twas here — ^'tis on the prairie's breast ; Weep not, love, they'll bring you home.
