Ah me, how hot and weary here in town
The days crawl by!
How otherwise they go my heart records,
Where the marsh meadows lie
And white sheep crop the grass, and seagulls sail
Between the lovely earth and lovely sky.
Here the sun grins along the dusty street
Beneath pale skies:
Hark! spiritless, sad tramp of toiling feet,
Hoarse hawkers, curses, cries —
Through these I hear the song that the sea sings
To the far meadowlands of Paradise.
O golden-lichened church and red-roofed barn —
O long sweet days —
O changing, unchanged skies, straight dykes all gay
With sedge and water mace —
O fair marsh land desirable and dear —
How far from you lie my life's weary ways!
Yet in my darkest night there shines a star
More fair than day;
There is a flower that blossoms sweet and white
In the sad city way.
That flower blooms not where the wide marshes gleam,
That star shines only when the skies are gray.
For here fair peace and passionate pleasure wane
Before the light
Of radiant dreams that make our lives worth life,
And turn to noon our night:
We fight for freedom and the souls of men —
Here, and not there, is fought and won our fight!