Page:An emigrant's home letters.djvu/155

 MY NATIVE LAND.

The moonlight of a milder clime Is round me pour'd o'er scenes sublime; But I would fly from nil earth's light And grandeur to behold to-night &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;My native land!

To-morrow's sun will beauteous rise In Australasia's summer skies; But more than beautiful to me Would winter's wildest morning be &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;In that dear land!

'Twould almost seem that peace and love Here reign as o'er those realms above; But, oh! the counter-charm of home Is found not yet, where'er I roam, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;O'er sea or land!

And greenwoods wave which ne'er are sere In this December summer here; But I would turn from Eden's bloom To hail, in winter's waste and gloom, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;My native land!

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