Roving, roving, as it seems, br Una lights my clouded dreams; br Still for journeys she is dressed; br We wander far by east and west. br br In the homestead, homely thought; br At my work I ramble not; br If from home chance draw me wide, br Half-seen Una sits beside. br br In my house and garden-plot, br Though beloved, I miss her not; br But one I seek in foreign places, br One face explore in foreign faces. br br At home a deeper thought may light br The inward sky with chrysolite, br And I greet from far the ray, br Aurora of a dearer day. br br But if upon the seas I sail, br Or trundle on the glowing rail, br I am but a thought of hers, br Loveliest of travellers. br br So the gentle poet's name br To foreign parts is blown by fame; br Seek him in his native town, br He is hidden and unknown.