Home
Myself a memory only,—
This is my kingly dwelling.
This is my kingly dwelling.
Oh, say not that our elders.
Whose eyes are closed forever,
That those we fain would banish
And from our lives would sever,—
Say not their colors vanish
Like flowers and like grasses,
That we from hearts efface them
Like dust, when one would clear it
From ancient window-glasses.
In power they upraise them,
A host they of the spirit,
The whole wide earth enshrouding,
Our thoughts too overclouding.
Whate'er our fate or fortune,
Our thoughts, like swallows crowding,
Fly home at evening duly.
A home! how firm its base is
By walls securely shielded,—
Our world—the one thing truly
We in this world have builded.
Whose eyes are closed forever,
That those we fain would banish
And from our lives would sever,—
Say not their colors vanish
Like flowers and like grasses,
That we from hearts efface them
Like dust, when one would clear it
From ancient window-glasses.
In power they upraise them,
A host they of the spirit,
The whole wide earth enshrouding,
Our thoughts too overclouding.
Whate'er our fate or fortune,
Our thoughts, like swallows crowding,
Fly home at evening duly.
A home! how firm its base is
By walls securely shielded,—
Our world—the one thing truly
We in this world have builded.
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