[from Collected Works, T.E.Brown]


I KNOW ‘tis but a loom of land,
Yet is it land, and so I will rejoice,
I know I cannot hear His voice
Upon the shore, nor see Him stand;
Yet is it land, ho ! land.

The land ! the land ! the lovely land!
" Far off" dost say ? Far off—ah, blessed home!
Farewell I farewell ! thou salt sea-foam!
Ah, keel upon the silver sand—
Land, ho ! land.

You cannot see the land, my land,
You cannot see, and yet the land is there—
My land, my land, through murky air—
I did not say ‘twas close at hand—
But—land, ho ! land.

Dost hear the bells of my sweet land,
Dost hear the kine, dost hear the merry birds ?
No voice, ‘tis true, no spoken words,
No tongue that thou may’st understand— ~j
Yet is it land, ho ! land

It’s clad in purple mist, my land,
In regal robe it is apparelled,
A crown is set upon its head,
And on its breast a golden band—
Land, ho ! land.

Dost wonder that I long for land ?
My land is not a land as others are—
Upon its crest there beams a star,
And lilies grow upon the strand—
Land, ho ! land.

Give me the helm ! there is the land!
Ha ! lusty mariners, she takes the breeze
And what my spirit sees it sees—
Leap, bark, as leaps the thunderbrand—
Land, ho ! land.


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HTML Transcription © F.Coakley , 2000