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62
CALDRON SNOUT.—WESTMORLAND.
I've wandered, but it was in vain
In many a far and foreign clime,
Absence is not forgetfulness,
And distance cannot vanquish time.
One face was ever in my sight,
One voice was ever on my ear,
From all earth's loveliness I turned
To wish, Ah that the dead were here!
Oh! weary wandering to no home,
Oh! weary wandering alone,
I turned to childhood's once glad scenes
And found life's last illusion flown.
Ah! those who left their childhood's scenes
For after years of toil and pain,
Who but bring back the breaking heart
Should never seek those scenes again.
