Library / Literature & Fiction

Poems

by George Pope Morris

Pages
about 139
Category
Literature & Fiction
Language
English
Reading time
2.5 h at 250 wpm
Start readingThe whole book, as cards or one word at a time. 85 min at 450 wpm in Read mode.

From the opening

I'm with you once again, my friends, No more my footsteps roam; Where it began my journey ends, Amid the scenes of home. No other clime has skies so blue, Or streams so broad and clear, And where are hearts so warm and true As those that meet me here?

Since last with spirits, wild and free, I pressed my native strand, I've wandered many miles at sea, And many miles on land. I've seen fair realms of the earth By rude commotion torn, Which taught me how to prize the worth Of that where I was born.

In other countries, when I heard The language of my own, How fondly each familiar word Awoke an answering tone! But when our woodland songs were sung Upon a foreign mart, The vows that faltered on the tongue With rapture thrilled the heart!

My native land, I turn to you, With blessing and with prayer, Where man is brave and woman true, And free as mountain air. Long may our flag in triumph wave Against the world combined, And friends a welcome--foes a grave, Within our borders find.

Oh, would that she were here, These hills and dales among, Where vocal groves are gayly mocked By Echo's airy tongue: Where jocund nature smiles In all her boon attire, And roams the deeply-tangled wilds Of hawthorn and sweet-brier. Oh, would that she were here-- The gentle maid I sing, Whose voice is cheerful as the songs Of forest-birds in spring!

Oh, would that she were here, Where the free waters leap, Shouting in sportive joyousness Adown the rocky steep: Where zephyrs crisp and cool The fountains as they play, With health upon their wings of light, And gladness on their way. Oh, would that she were here, With these balm-breathing trees, The sylvan daughters of the sun, The rain-cloud, and the breeze!

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