Thou who ordainest, for the land’s salvation,
Famine, and fire, and sword, and lamentation,
Now unto Thee we lift our supplication,—
O, save the Nation!
By the great sign foretold of Thy appearing,
Coming in clouds, while mortal men stand fearing,
Show us, amid the smoke of battle clearing,
Thy chariot nearing.
O far-off darling in the South,
Where grapes are loading down the vine,
And songs are in the throstle’s mouth,
While love’s complaints are here in mine,
Turn from the blue Tyrrhenian Sea!
Come back to me! Come back to me!
Here all the Northern skies are cold,
And in their wintriness they say
(With warnings by the winds...
I see the star-lights quiver,
Like jewels in the river;
The bank is hid with sedge;
What if I slip the edge?
I thought I knew the way
By night as well as day:
But how a lover goes astray!
The place is somewhat lonely—
I mean for just one only;
I brought the boat ashore
An hour ago or more....
I won a noble fame;
But, with a sudden frown,
The people snatched my crown,
And, in the mire, trod down
My lofty name.
I bore a bounteous purse;
And beggars by the way
Then blessed me, day by day;
But I, grown poor as they,
Have now their curse.
I gained what men call friends;
But now...
