He told a homely tale

He told a homely tale

And spotted it with tears—

Upon his infant face was set

The Cicatrice of years—

All crumpled was the cheek

No other kiss had known

Than flake of snow, divided with

The Redbreast of the Barn—

If Mother—in the Grave—

Or Father—on the Sea—

Or Father in the Firmament—

Or Brethren, had he—

If Commonwealth below,

Or Commonwealth above

Have missed a Barefoot Citizen—

I’ve ransomed it—alive—