Sonnet Xxxii. The Christian Pilgrim Poem by Thomas Cogswell Upham

Farewell, my native country! Thy bright star,
Thy sky, green woods, clear waters, no more greet
Mine eye delighted. But with pilgrim feet,
In waste and horrid lands, I wander far.
I wander far, unknown, but not dismayed;
I leave my native country; but my soul,
Unmoved, unshaken, in its purpose whole,
On higher power, than aught of earth, is stayed.
My God shall be my country! I will call,
And he will hear me in the desert place.
When troubles come, before his feet I fall,
And then he sheds the sunshine of his grace.
On Afric's arid sands, on Asia's plain,
On Greenland's ice-bound coast, no prayer to Him is vain.