A Sicilian Story :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now, from thy skiey road, look down upon me,
Hesper—Star of my sad nativity!
—With no unholy thought I dare to court
Thy lustrous eye on me: and as to one
Known in some happier hours I bid thee hail
After my many wanderings. I have seen
Thy burning glance on bare and peopled lands,
Civil and savage: on the parched plains
Of India and the sands of Palestine,
On tropic waters and on iced shores,
And on the far and solitary seas
O' the south. I've roam'd this circular world, and thou
Hast follow'd me like fate, yet never look'd
Before with such kind aspect: Thou art now
Shining above my home, and hallowing
The sweet haunt of my infancy — I come

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After my toils and dangers to seek rest,
And love, and welcoming eyes, and gentle hearts.
Oh! thou bright Star, be now my messenger,
And from thy cloudy palace (for the clouds
Are rolling 'round about thee) glance upon
My mother's house with thy expressive eye,
And to the dear inhabitants, gentle Star,
Dart smiling tidings that the boy they loved
Is come indeed. Shipwrecked and lost for years,
He lives redeemed from his watery grave,
Lives, and will be a blessing. And on the cheek
Of one supremely soft and beautiful,
Light like the cheerful ray of a Summer morning;
So may my own Olympia know that still
Juan, the wanderer, lives.