Helen Hunt Jackson

Emigravit

WITH sails full set, the ship her anchor weighs.  
Strange names shine out beneath her figure head.  
What glad farewells with eager eyes are said!  
What cheer for him who goes, and him who stays!  
Fair skies, rich lands, new homes, and untried days          
Some go to seek: the rest but wait instead,  
Watching the way wherein their comrades led,  
Until the next stanch ship her flag doth raise.  
Who knows what myriad colonies there are  
Of fairest fields, and rich, undreamed-of gains          
Thick planted in the distant shining plains  
Which we call sky because they lie so far?  
Oh, write of me, not “Died in bitter pains,”  
But “Emigrated to another star!”
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