“Where is thy home, thou lonely man?”
I asked a pilgrim gray,
Who came, with furrowed brow, and wan,
Slow musing on his way.
He paused, and with a solemn mien,
Upturned his holy eyes,—
“The land I seek thou ne’er hast seen,—
My home is in the skies!”
O! blest—thrice blest! the heart must be
To whom such thoughts are given,
That walks from worldly fetters free,—
Its only home in heaven!