The Heart's Country Poem by Florence Wilkinson
The Heart's Country
Hill people turn to their hills;
Sea-folk are sick for the sea:
Thou art my land and my country,
And my heart calls out for thee.
The bird beats his wings for the open,
The captive burns to be free;
But I -- I cry at thy window,
For thou art my liberty.
Saturday, January 4, 2003
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4/26/2024 11:02:21 AM # 1.0.0.1119
