ON HOMEWARD WING.
FROM the soft south the constant bird comes back, Faith-led, to find the welcome of the spring In the old boughs whereto she used to cling Before she sought the unknown southward track: Above the Winter and the storm-cloud's wrack She hears the prophecy of days that bring The Summer's pride, and plumes her homeward wing To seek again the joys that exiles lack.
Shall I of little faith, less brave than she, Set forth unwillingly my goal to find, Go home from exile with reluctant mind, Distrust the steadfast stars I cannot see, And doubt the heavens because my eyes are blind? Nay! Give me faith like wings to soar to Thee!