"The Lost."

"The Lost."

You may have your marble palace,

      With its settings rare and fine,

But give me the simple cottage

      Where the sunlight used to shine;

You may have your sweetest music—

     But O, for the lonely roar

Of the sea as it thundered landward,

     And crushed its breast on the shore!

You may keep your gold and jewels,

     Your poetry and your art—

Give me back the call of the robin,

     And the love of that honest heart!

You may keep these velvet cushions,

     Where my hot head tosses now—

But O, for the strong, cool pressure

     Of that palm on my burning brow!

A newspaper clipping of the poem printed in an unidentified newspaper, courtesy of the Ella Higginson Papers, Center for Pacific Northwest Studies, Heritage Resources, Western Washington University, Bellingham WA.