Radical Review, 307
Million-Folded are my likings,
All the world my well-loved home;
Would my kindred not regale me,
To their world-fires I would roam.
Pleasant ‘tis with love to tarry,—
Pleasant to recount its store:
Glooms and sorrows passing by me
Leave my heart young as before.
Listen, loved ones, o’er the planet!
Think ye not I’m lost, if missing
From your fire-lit hearths my greetings:
All your loves my love is kissing.
Warm and glowing goes my spirit
Toward my million-fated kin.
Oh! I keep their hearts enshrined
In the deep my heart within.
Sidney H. Morse.