VISIONS
By Edmund Leamy
I never watch the sun set a-down the Western skies
But that within its wonderness I see my mother’s eyes;
I never hear the West wind sob softly in the trees
But that there comes her broken call far o’er the distant seas;
And never shine the dim stars but that my heart would go
Away and back to olden lands and dreams of long ago.
A rover of the wide world, when yet my heart was young
The sea came whispering to me in well-beloved tongue,
And oh! the promises she held of golden lands a-gleam
That clung about my boy-heart and filled mine eyes with dream,
And Wanderlust came luring me till ’neath the stars I swore
That I would be a wanderer for ever, ever more.
A-rover of the wide world, I’ve seen the Northern lights
A-flashing countless colours in the knife-cold wintry nights;
I’ve watched the Southern Cross ablaze o’er smiling, sunny lands,
And seen the lazy sea caress palm-sheltered, silvery sands;
Still wild unrest is scouring me, the Wanderlust of yore,
And I must be a wanderer for ever, ever more.
And yet, I see the sun set a-down the Western skies
And glimpse within the wonderness my mother’s pleading eyes;
And yet I hear the West wind sob softly in the trees,
That vainly cloaks her broken call far o’er the distant seas;
And still when shine the dim stars my wander heart would go
Away and back to her side, and dreams of long ago.