Across his unforgotten shore.

The great cliff, gilded by the west,

Received him as an honoured guest.

The green sea, shining in the bay,

Did drown his dreadful yesterday.

Come home, come home, you million ghosts,

The honest years shall make amends,

The sun and moon shall be your hosts,

The everlasting hills your friends.

And some shall seek their mothers’ faces,

And some shall run to trysting places,

And some to towns, and others yet

Shall find great forests in their debt.

Oh, I would siege the golden coasts

Of space, and climb high heaven’s dome,

So I might see those million ghosts

Come home.

FIVE SMOOTH STONES

It was young David, lord of sheep and cattle,

Pursued his fate, the April fields among,

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