My land was the west land; my home was on the hill,
I never think of my land but it makes my heart to thrill;
I never smell the west wind that blows the golden skies,
But old desire is in my feet and dreams are in my eyes.
My home crowned the high land; it had a stately grace.
I never think of my land but I see my mother's face;
I never smell the west wind that blows the silver ships
But old delight is in my heart and mirth is on my lips.
My land was a high land; my home was near the skies.
I never think of my land but a light is in my eyes;
I never smell the west wind that blows the summer rain-
But I am at my mother's knee, a little lad again.
The Homeland
Dana Burnet
(1)
Poem topics: light, rain, silver, summer, desire, face, delight, golden, heart, mother, high, home, wind, smell, never, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Carol Gearhart: We sang this song when I was in 6th grade many ears ago. I am looking for the music.
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