The Country Calls Me.
95
They go, they come,
And still the hum
Assaults mine ear.
I hear, I hear
Half-strangled notes
From human throats,
God help them! What is it they say?
And 'mid the roar
I hear the sore
Sore weeping of down-trodden lives,
And worse, ah worse!
I feel the curse
Of vice, exultant as it thrives,
And how am I
To crush it—I,
Whose instinct is to turn and fly?
And still the hum
Assaults mine ear.
I hear, I hear
Half-strangled notes
From human throats,
God help them! What is it they say?
And 'mid the roar
I hear the sore
Sore weeping of down-trodden lives,
And worse, ah worse!
I feel the curse
Of vice, exultant as it thrives,
And how am I
To crush it—I,
Whose instinct is to turn and fly?
Alas! the town,
As up and down
It passes, hurrying to its goal,
Is treading, treading, treading on my soul.
The country calls me,
But the town, the town appals me.
The country calls me.
As up and down
It passes, hurrying to its goal,
Is treading, treading, treading on my soul.
The country calls me,
But the town, the town appals me.
The country calls me.
