I who speak to you abide, with my choice on either side,

With my fortune all to win and all to wear. Shall I take this proffered gain ?Shall I keep the loss and pain, With my own to live and bear?

For the choice is open now, I must either stand or bow,

Secure this beckoning sunshine or else accept the rain. Must be banished with my own, or my race and faith disown ? Share the loss or snatch the gain ?

Shall I pay the needed toll, just the purchase of a soul,

Heart and lips, faith and promises to sever ? Six centuries of strain, six centuries of pain, Six centuries cry 'never.'

Then let who will abide, for me the Fates decide,

One road, and only one, for me they show. There is room enough out there, room to pray and room to dare, Room out yonder - and I go !


Heart of my heart; I sicken to be with you. Heart of my heart, my only love and care. Little I'd reck if ill or well you used me, Heart of my heart; if I were only there.

Heart of my heart; I faint; I pine to see you. Christ, how I hate this alien sea and shore 1 Gaily this night I'd sell my soul to see you, Heart of my heart - whom I shall see no more.

I cannot resist the pleasure of quoting one more poem which gives the picture from the point of view of those who are left behind: -