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!