HOME AGAIN.
It is a mournful thing to have no home,
To wear a shroud of loneliness on earth,
To know that fate has forced thee forth to roam,
And fear thyself unwelcome by each hearth,—
To hear harsh, stranger voices, and to raise
A drooping lid and meet a loveless gaze!
To wear a shroud of loneliness on earth,
To know that fate has forced thee forth to roam,
And fear thyself unwelcome by each hearth,—
To hear harsh, stranger voices, and to raise
A drooping lid and meet a loveless gaze!
Once, long ago, the lightning's quivering glare
Lit the strange sadness of a boyish face,
And vanished from bright waves of tangled hair
That seemed to touch the dark with sunny grace,
While the sad wind with many a fond caress
Sighed for a kindred wanderer's loneliness.
Lit the strange sadness of a boyish face,
And vanished from bright waves of tangled hair
That seemed to touch the dark with sunny grace,
While the sad wind with many a fond caress
Sighed for a kindred wanderer's loneliness.
Weary and wretched he had sunk to sleep
Ere sunset's crimson loveliness was gone;
The twilight came and passed, night's gloom grew deep
In the damp forest; still he slumbered on,
Ere sunset's crimson loveliness was gone;
The twilight came and passed, night's gloom grew deep
In the damp forest; still he slumbered on,
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