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SONG OF EMIGRATION.
53
"There are clearer skies than ours, afar,
We will shape our course by a brighter star;
There are plains whose verdure no foot hath press'd,
And whose wealth is all for the first brave guest."
"But alas! that we should go"
—Sang the farewell voices then—
"From the homesteads, warm and low,
By the brook and in the glen!"
"We will rear new homes under trees that glow,
As if gems were the fruitage of every bough;
O'er our white walls we will train the vine,
And sit in its shadow at day's decline;
And watch our herds, as they range at will
Through the green savannas, all bright and still."
"But woe for that sweet shade
Of the flowering orchard-trees,
