Home is the mail...
Home Is the Sailor
Home is the sailor, home from sea:
Her far-borne canvas furled
The ship pours shining on the quay
The plunder of the world.
Home is the hunter from the hill:
Fast in the boundless snare
All flesh lies taken at his will
And every fowl of air.
'Tis evening on the moorland free,
The starlit wave is still:
Home is the sailor from the sea,
The hunter from the hill.
A.E. Housman
1 Comments:
Great idea for a blog!
It gave me somewhere to send this picture:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/freewine/94784602/
I just had to grab a picture when I spotted the mailbox on vacation recently.
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