Arthur Hugh Clough,
Songs in Absence[2]
“ To the plunging bark, or to the salt sea foam, You are my home. Fields once I walked in, faces once I knew, Familiar things so old my heart believed them true, These far, far back, behind me lie, before The dark clouds mutter, and the deep seas roar, And speak to them that ’neath and o’er them roam No words of home. ”
Arthur Hugh Clough,
Songs in Absence[2]
“ With sailless yards, a bare black hulk we fly. See how the gale we fight with sweeps her back, To our lost home, on our forsaken track. Come back, come back. Come back, come back, across the flying foam, We hear faint far-off voices call us home, Come back, ye seem to say; ye seek in vain; We went, we sought, and homeward turned again. Come back, come back. Come back, come back; and whither back or why? To fan quenched hopes, forsaken schemes to try; Walk the old fields; pace the familiar street; Dream with the idlers, with the bards compete. ”
Arthur Hugh Clough,
Songs in Absence[2]
“ Till more than waves and winds between us swell, Farewell, a last, indeed, a last farewell. Ye flags of Piccadilly, Where I posted up and down, And wished myself so often Well away from you and town,— Are the people walking quietly And steady on their feet, Cabs and omnibuses plying Just as usual in the street? Do the houses look as upright As of old they used to be, And does nothing seem affected By the pitching of the sea? Through the Green Park iron railings Do the quick pedestrians pass? Are the little children playing Round the plane-tree in the grass? ”
