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!