A homesickness of forty years,
A quest across two hemispheres,—
No wonder that wan face
Shone like a soul in grace.

Yet hedgebanks rough and slates cast by
From worn-out quarries, lowering sky,
—What scene was this to move
Such ecstasy of love!

Nay, Love, that looks by deeper law
Than sense, saw what his childhood saw,
Adventure, glory, joy,
The godhood of a boy.

Those glistening eyes, where teardrops strayed
In laughter, their own rainbow made,
And when the road ran down
Into a poor gray town,

God help the man! he drank it so
With thirsty look, agaze, aglow,
Trembling in all his frame
As through the street we came;

While broken, sweet, unconscious words
Fell from his lips, as drowsy birds
Down the dim treetops float
A fragmentary note.

Strange kith and kin about him pressed.
His smile slipped past them all to rest
Upon the murmuring stream,
Music of many a dream

Dreamt 'neath the keen Australian stars,
And where the turquoise-seeker mars
Stern Sinai's solemn vast,
—A dream come true at last.

Oft current-crost and Pixie-led,
From those long years in exile sped
Few golden sheaves brought he,
A sower in the sea;

But ah! we had not thought to view
This side the tapestries of blue,
Not on this mortal side,
A look so satisfied.