Homewards, through the boding gloom,

O’er my way hath flitted fast

Since the farewell sunbeam pass’d

From the chestnut’s ruddy bark,

And the pools, now lone and dark,

Where the wakening night-winds sigh

Through the long reeds mournfully.

Homeward, homeward, all things haste—

God of might!

Shield the homeless midst the waste!