The Rover's Native Tongue
He was a tall, rough -bearded man,
Had roamed o'er sea and plain,
And seemed apart from other's lives,
Like one who sought in vain
To win the hope for which he sought,
Or as he little cared
For friend or love or passing joys,
Or perils he had shared.
Yet once, as light beams through a cloud,
Some memory seemed to wake,
And many a tale of life he told,
Like dreams that glow and break
In restless sleep ; and names slipped in
From many a foreign land.
Ah, his had been a rover's life,
Linked with some Corsair band !
The tongues of many lands you've learned;
Now, when you are alone,
And thinking only to yourself,
Which language seems your own ?"
' Lady, wherein I chance to be
That country's is my own,
To speak or think, to sing or read,
With others or alone
' But oh ! though wanderer from home
Since when my years were young,
In dreams, their scenes and all my thoughts
Are in my native tongue;
For, deep adown this rover' s heart,
Like treasures buried deep,
The words learned from his mother's lips
Uncovered glow in sleep.
" Like lamps or stars at night they shine,
O'er land or water's foam,
In solitude they wake my heart
And fondly call me home."
Sing on, O mothers, to your babes,
Nor count the moments loss,
Thy hymns and prayers and : ender words
Shall span the world across. |
