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HOME AGAIN.
And—oh! how strange!—that friendless wanderer smiled
As calmly as a cradled, thoughtless child.

For Memory bore him to his home; he heard
The murmured music of his childish hours;
He saw familiar trees and each bright bird
Whose sweet song gushed at Spring-time 'mid the flowers;
His sister smiled, his mother's thrilling kiss
Flushed his pale cheek with more than former bliss.

He woke, while listening to the words of love,
And heard the passing night-wind's deep farewell!
He saw the trees around, the clouds above,
And murmured, starting from that blesséd spell,
"O God! the loved are gone—my dream is o'er;
This is a forest—I've a home no more!"

. . . World-wanderer, thou art in a forest too!
Oh! dream and smile as did that lonely boy:
There is a home for thee: the loved, the true,
Await thee there amid unfading joy;
Weary and sad thou too shalt fall asleep:
The shades around thee shall be dim and deep.