HARLEY MATTHEWS
Private, A.I.F.
Homeward
TO the old friends and faces,
To the old life again,
To often dreamed-of places,
Pleasant in sun or rain:
For home my face is set;
Home! Madly goes my heart
With calling up each minute
Those visions none forget,
All that the word has in it—
For each man things apart.
We watched our land go from us,
The sea stretched far, unknown;
To all it glowed with promise. . . .
I watch the sea alone.
Some lie within its sound,
Scarce past its edge of foam,
Yet hear it surging never.
And some their grave have found
Far from the sea for ever,
The sea that takes us home.
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