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Title: Home-Sickness
Author: Adelaide Anne Procter [
More Titles by Procter]
Where I am, the halls are gilded,
Stored with pictures bright and rare;
Strains of deep melodious music
Float upon the perfumed air:-
Nothing stirs the dreary silence
Save the melancholy sea,
Near the poor and humble cottage,
Where I fain would be!
Where I am, the sun is shining,
And the purple windows glow,
Till their rich armorial shadows
Stain the marble floor below:-
Faded Autumn leaves are trembling,
On the withered jasmine tree,
Creeping round the little casement,
Where I fain would be!
Where I am, the days are passing
O'er a pathway strewn with flowers;
Song and joy and starry pleasures
Crown the happy smiling hours:-
Slowly, heavily, and sadly,
Time with weary wings must flee,
Marked by pain, and toil, and sorrow,
Where I fain would be!
Where I am, the great and noble
Tell me of renown and fame,
And the red wine sparkles highest,
To do honour to my name:-
Far away a place is vacant,
By a humble hearth, for me,
Dying embers dimly show it,
Where I fain would be!
Where I am, are glorious dreaminess,
Science, genius, art divine;
And the great minds whom all honour
Interchange their thoughts with mine:-
A few simple hearts are waiting,
Longing, wearying, for me,
Far away where tears are falling,
Where I fain would be!
Where I am, all think me happy,
For so well I play my part,
None can guess, who smile around me,
How far distant is my heart--
Far away, in a poor cottage,
Listening to the dreary sea,
Where the treasures of my life are,
Where I fain would be!
[The end]
Adelaide Anne Procter's poem: Home-Sickness
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