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William Williams

41

But it is neither Winter night nor summer eve that has touched the poet's mind in this last hymn of the group. It may have come to him partly through reading the experiences of Columbus when in search of a new continent.

Here I know myself a stranger,

And my native country lies

Far beyond the ocean's danger,

In the lands of Paradise:

Storms of trial blowing keenly

Drove me on this foreign strand;

Come, O South-wind, blow serenely,

Speed me to my Fatherland.

Though the voyage should be stormy,

Though the raging billows foam;

Even were the worst before me,

I shall sometime be at home:

Waves and seas are strong; but stronger

Is the word of God than all;

Trusting Him I fear no longer,

Safely in His hands I fall.

Now the air is full of balm

With the fragrance of the land;

And the breezes clear and calm

Tell of Paradise at hand:

Come, ye much-desired regions,

With the best of joy in store:

Country of the singing legions,

Let me reach thy restful shore!

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