THE HOME SICKNESS.

" O civitas sancta, civitas speciosa, de longinquo te saluto, ad te clamo, te requiro."- Augustine, De Spir. et Anim.

15

AND whence this weariness,

This gathering cloud of gloom? Whence this dull weight of loneliness, These greedy cravings for the tomb? These greedier cravings for the hopes that lie

Beyond the tomb, beyond the things that die;

Beyond the smiles and joys that come

and go,

Fevering the spirit with their fitful flow; Beyond the circle where the shadows fall; Within the region where my God is all.

It is not that I fear

To breast the storm or wrestle with the

wave,

To swim the torrent or the blast to brave, To toil or suffer in this day of strife

As He may will who gave this struggling life;

But I am homesick!

It is not that the cross

Is heavier than this drooping frame can bear,

Or that I find no kindred heart to share