The Return Poem by Philip James Bailey

The Return



They come, from the ends of the earth,
White with its aged snows;
From the bounding breast of the tropic tide,
Where the day--beam ever glows;--
From the east where first they dwelt,
From the north, and the south, and the west,
Where the sun puts on his robe of light,
And lays down his crown to rest.

Out of every land they come--
Where the palm triumphant grows,
Where the vine overshadows the roofs and the hills,
And the gold orbed orange glows;
Where the olive and fig--tree thrive,
And the rich pomegranates red,
Where the citron blooms, and the apple of ill
Bows down its fragrant head.

From the lands where the gems are born--
Opal and emerald bright;
From shores where the ruddy corals grow,
And pearls with their mellow light;
Where silver and gold are dug,
And the diamond rivers roll,
And the marble white as the still moonlight
Is quarried, and jetty coal;--

They come--with a gladdening shout;
They come--with a tear of joy;
Father and daughter, youth and maid,
Mother and blooming boy.
A thousand dwellings they leave,
Dwellings--but not a Home;
To them there is none but the sacred soil,
And the land whereto they come.

And the Temple again shall be built,
And filled as it was of yore;
And the burden be lift from the heart of the world,
And the nations all adore;
Prayers to the throne of Heaven
Morning and eve shall rise,
And unto and not of the Lamb
Shall be the sacrifice.

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