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1825–1864

VERSE: HOME-SICKNESS

Adelaide Anne Procter

Where I am, the halls are gilded, Stored with pictures bright and rare; Strains of deep melodious music Float upon the perfumed air: -

Nothing stirs the dreary silence Save the melancholy sea, Near the poor and humble cottage, Where I fain would be!

Where I am, the sun is shining, And the purple windows glow, Till their rich armorial shadows Stain the marble floor below: -

Faded Autumn leaves are trembling, On the withered jasmine tree, Creeping round the little casement, Where I fain would be!

Where I am, the days are passing O'er a pathway strewn with flowers; Song and joy and starry pleasures Crown the happy smiling hours: -

Slowly, heavily, and sadly, Time with weary wings must flee, Marked by pain, and toil, and sorrow, Where I fain would be!

Where I am, the great and noble Tell me of renown and fame, And the red wine sparkles highest, To do honour to my name: -

Far away a place is vacant, By a humble hearth, for me, Dying embers dimly show it, Where I fain would be!

Where I am, are glorious dreaminess, Science, genius, art divine; And the great minds whom all honour Interchange their thoughts with mine: -

A few simple hearts are waiting, Longing, wearying, for me, Far away where tears are falling, Where I fain would be!

Where I am, all think me happy, For so well I play my part, None can guess, who smile around me, How far distant is my heart —

Far away, in a poor cottage, Listening to the dreary sea, Where the treasures of my life are, Where I fain would be!

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VERSE: HOME-SICKNESS · Adelaide Anne Procter · Poetry Cove