I swing to the land of morn; The grey old east with its grey old seas, The land of leisure, the land of ease, The land of flowers and fruits and trees, And the place where we were born. Freighted with wealth I come; For he who many a moon has spent Far out west on adventure bent, With well-worn pick and a folded tent, Is bringing his bullion home. I never will be renowned, As my twin that swings to the western marts, For I am she of the humbler parts, But I am the joy of the waiting hearts; For I am the Homeward-bound. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CARGO MOVING TO GAZA (1988) by MARVIN BELL PORTRAIT OF A BOY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET TO A DEAD LOVER by LOUISE BOGAN CONTRA MORTEM: THE ECSTASY by HAYDEN CARRUTH I KNOW, I REMEMBER, BUT HOW CAN I HELP YOU by HAYDEN CARRUTH MY FATHER'S FACE by HAYDEN CARRUTH BATTLE OF BRITAIN by CECIL DAY LEWIS OLD MEN ON THE COURTHOUSE LAWN, MURRAY, KENTUCKY by JAMES GALVIN |