Listen, Children! That's the breeze
Speaking to you as he flees.
"I have no home; I rove I roam
Hark! I'm passing through the trees"
"Oer the world from end to end,
Light of wing, my way I wend.
Where'er I pass, the trees, the grass
Bow their heads, and corn doth bend"
"Yet by land, or on the foam,
I am still without a home;
I hear through all the imperious call
'Wander, wander, rove and roam.'"
There he goes! His long sigh dies
In the boughs as on he flies,
To rove, to roam, without a home,
Underneath the starry skies.
F. W. Home.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------