 | Poems of house and home |  |
HOME-LONGING.
I long for thee, O native Western Land!I long for thy full rivers, moving slow
In their old dream, that changes not, but takes
The ever-changing vision of the air;
I long for these, the kinsmen of my youth,
And thy vast woodlands, murmuring weirdly still
Lost Indian legends, and thy prairies where
The bison's thunder, sinking far and vague,
Grows loud and near, and is the hurrying train.
Washington, D. C.
| Poems of house and home | |