[This is a syndicated post from the blog: Talkin' From The Heart.]
One of my favourite poems. Somehow, it sums up my life. Enjoy
Dear native regions, I foretell,
From what I feel at this farewell,
That, wheresoe’er my steps may tend,
And wheresoe’er my course shall end,
If in that hour a single tie
Survive of local sympathy,
My son will cast the backward view,
The longing look alone on you.
Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest
Far in the regions of the west,
Though to the vale no parting beam
Be given, not one memorial gleam,
A lingering light he fondly throws
On the dear hills where first he rose.