Poems (Elgee, 1907)/The exile
For works with similar titles, see The exile.
Thou, who with joys and sorrows blending, Thy gentle hand to soothe each wound,And bear life's burdens, ever lending, Thou, Friendship, early sought and found.
XII.And thou, with Friendship wedded ever, To calm the tempest of the soul—Exhaustless study! wearying never, Creating while the ages roll.Still the world-temple calm uprearing, Tho' grain on grain thou can'st but lay,And striking, with a ceasless daring, Time's minutes, days, and years away.
THE EXILE.
I.
PRING'S sweet odours from the meadow Fling their fragrance far and wide, And the tall trees cast the shadow Of the winter's gloom aside;But for me no spring is bearingGladness to my heart despairing; Comes no more with soothing power Kindly voice, or friendly hand, Song of home, or breath of flower, From my own dear native land.
PRING'S sweet odours from the meadow Fling their fragrance far and wide, And the tall trees cast the shadow Of the winter's gloom aside;But for me no spring is bearingGladness to my heart despairing; Comes no more with soothing power Kindly voice, or friendly hand, Song of home, or breath of flower, From my own dear native land.II. High in Heaven, circling nightly, Moon and stars shine overhead; Mighty rivers rush on brightly To the ocean's distant bed;But for me, in sorrow pining,Star and stream in vain are shining, Foreign skies are drear above me, By a foreign shore I stand, Thinking of the friends that love me, In my own dear far-off land