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Poem	I At last! In sight of home again, Of home again; No more to range and roam again As at that bygone time? No more to go away from us And stay from us? - Dawn, hold not long the day from us, But quicken it to prime! II Now all the town shall ring to them, Shall ring to them, And we who love them cling to them And clasp them joyfully; And cry, "O much we'll do for you Anew for you, Dear Loves!--aye, draw and hew for you, Come back from oversea." III Some told us we should meet no more, Should meet no more; Should wait, and wish, but greet no more Your faces round our fires; That, in a while, uncharily And drearily Men gave their lives--even wearily, Like those whom living tires. IV And now you are nearing home again, Dears, home again; No more, may be, to roam again As at that bygone time, Which took you far away from us To stay from us; Dawn, hold not long the day from us, But quicken it to prime!
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