The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay With Illustrations by John Gilbert |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
THE RETURN HOME. |
 | The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay |  |
THE RETURN HOME.
I
The favouring wind pipes aloft in the shrouds,And our keel flies as fast as the shadow of clouds;
The land is in sight, on the verge of the sky,
And the ripple of waters flows pleasantly by,—
And faintly stealing,
Booming, pealing,
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And louder, clearer,
Softer, nearer,
Ringing sweet welcome, the melody swells;
And it's home! and it's home! all our sorrows are past—
We are home in the land of our fathers at last.
II
How oft with a pleasure akin to a pain,In fancy we roam'd through thy pathways again,—
Through the mead, through the lane, through the grove, through the corn,
And heard the lark singing its hymn to the morn;
And 'mid the wild wood,
Dear to childhood,
Gather'd the berries that grew by the way;
But all our gladness
Died in sadness,
Fading like dreams in the dawning of day;—
But we're home! we are home! all our sorrows are past—
We are home in the land of our fathers at last.
III
We loved thee before, but we'll cherish thee nowWith a deeper emotion than words can avow;
Wherever in absence our feet might delay,
We had never a joy like the joy of to-day;
And home returning,
Fondly yearning,
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England! England!
Beautiful England!
Peace be around thee, and joy evermore!
And it's home! and it's home! all our sorrows are past—
We are home in the land of our fathers at last.
| The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay | |