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Poems for the Sea.
Lips that touched with filial flame
Syllabled a mother's name,
With their memories, warm and true,
Kept Thee ever in my view;
And when loftier mansions prest
Lures of pleasure on their guest,
Held thee, in thine armour bright
Nearest to me day and night.
Home! by absence made more dear,
Heaven be praised that thou art near;
Heaven be praised, that o'er the sea
Once more, I return to thee!
What has been the wanderer's gain?
Sight of foreign land and main?
Sight of visioned forms that sweep
O'er the castle's ruined steep?
Sight of haunts to history dear?
Sight of palace, king, or peer?
No! the joy that lights the eye
When the native shore draws nigh.
