very soul. Though he himself did not suspect it, the star
While hastening fieldward from the gleaming town.
Then fell a softer mood, and Memory paused
With faithful Love, amidst the sainted shrines
Of Youth and Passion in the valleys past
Of dear delights which never grow again.
And if the stranger (who had left behind
Far anxious homesteads in a wave-swept isle
To face a fierce sea-circle day by day,