The Poetry Corner

The Exile's Desire.

By Victor-Marie Hugo

("Si je pouvais voir, O patrie!") [Bk. III. xxxvii.] Would I could see you, native land, Where lilacs and the almond stand Behind fields flowering to the strand - But no! Can I - oh, father, mother, crave Another final blessing save To rest my head upon your grave? - But no! In the one pit where ye repose, Would I could tell of France's woes, My brethren, who fell facing foes - But no! Would I had - oh, my dove of light, After whose flight came ceaseless night, One plume to clasp so purely white. - But no! Far from ye all - oh, dead, bewailed! The fog-bell deafens me empaled Upon this rock - I feel enjailed - Though free. Like one who watches at the gate Lest some shall 'scape the doomd strait. I watch! the tyrant, howe'er late, Must fall!