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Title: The Return
Author: James Allan Mackereth [ More Titles by Mackereth]
(To E.W.) Home, O most pale adventurer, are you bound From that strange kingdom where no love may trace The life it loves to its abiding place, Or hail it from afar with cheerful sound. From deeps whose marges mortal ne'er hath found You steal, and we are awed before your face-- For you are weird with wonder, with the grace Of death's most delicate lilies are you crowned.
After the ranging sunset of Farewell-- When life's loved country fades, and hope is lorn, Is it not fair from that dim, tideless bourn To drift back home to man's own star and dwell Fondly with time, in tune with bud and bell, With midnight's shimmer of stars and the sheen of morn?
[The end] James Allan Mackereth's poem: Return ________________________________________________
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