Page:Poetical Remains.pdf/75

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What secret current of man's nature turns Unto the golden East with ceaseless flow? Still, where the sunbeam at its fountain burns, The pilgrim spirit would adore and glow; Rapt in high thoughts, though weary, faint and slow, Still doth the traveller through the deserts wind Led by those old Chaldean stars, which know Where passed the Shepherd Fathers of mankind. Is it some quenchless instinct which from far Still points to where our alienated home Lay in bright peace? O thou true Eastern Star Saviour! atoning Lord! where'er we roam, Draw still our hearts to thee, else, else how vain Their hope, the fair lost birthright to regain.