A small writing group I belong to chose to write essays for yesterday's gathering about "home". The word immediately recalled a couple of lines by Robert Lewis Stevenson. I don't know why I remember them or his name, I know I must have encountered the poem in high school and that was a very long time ago. Such is the power of poetry, I remembered the vivid vision of a returnee, I did not remember the first part of the poem, perhaps at that early age I couldn't quite conceive of someone writing his own epitaph. At this age, it is the third line that is an amazement to me.
Requiem
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie:
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you 'grave for me:
Here he lies where he long'd to be:
Home is the sailor, home rom the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill
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