Wouldst thou receive! then give, as price !
Within thyself dost thou retire ?
Behold thy looked-for joys expire !
Life only pays for sacrifice.
Thou wave-rocked child, of ocean born !
Poor islet on a stormy seal
Thy sod from earth's broad kingdom torn !
Thou art my home ! my joy's in thee !
No waving forest hems thee round ;
No rocky girdle holds thee fas ;
Only the watery waste profound,
With heaven's broad curtain o'er thee cast.
Thy meager landscape lieth bare
Beneath the source of light intense ;
And 'gainst the elemental war,
Thou hast no weapon, no defense.
Peace in thy humble huts doth live
Thy riches are thy poverty ;
And simple manners aye survive
From sire to son, unchanged, in thee.
Virtue and piety remain
Guests at the fireside of the poor ;
None envies here another's gain —
No heart, impatient, asks for more.