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EMIGRATION
[ Also see America Love of Country ]

Good heav'n! what sorrows gloom'd that parting day,
  That call'd them from their native walks away,
    When the poor exiles, ev'ry pleasure past,
      Hung round the bow'rs, and fondly look'd their last,
        And took a long farewell, and wish'd in vain,
          For seats like these beyond the western main,
            And shudd'ring still to face the distant deep,
              Return'd and wept, and still return'd to weep.
      - Oliver Goldsmith

Down where yon anch'ring vessel spreads the sail,
  That, idly waiting, flaps with every gale,
    Downward they move, a melancholy band,
      Pass from the shore and darken all the strand.
      - Oliver Goldsmith, The Deserted Village
         (l. 399)

Beheld the duteous son, the sire decayed,
  The modest matron, and the blushing maid,
    Forc'd from their homes, a melancholy train,
      To traverse climes beyond the Western main.
      - Oliver Goldsmith, The Traveller (l. 407)

The emigrant's way o'er the western desert is mark'd by
  Camp-fires long consum'd and bones that bleach in the sunshine.
      - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

From the vine-land, from the Rhine-land,
  From the Shannon, from the Scheldt,
    From the ancient homes of genius,
      From the sainted home of Celt,
        From Italy, from Hungary,
          All as brothers join and come,
            To the sinew-bracing bugle,
              And the foot-propelling drum;
                Too proud beneath the starry flag to die, and keep secure
                  The liberty they dreamed of by the Danube, Elbe, and Suir.
      - John Savage, Must of the North

At the gate of the West I stand,
  On the isle where the nations throng.
    We call them "scum o' the earth."
      - Robert Haven Schauffler, Scum o' the Earth

Let us depart! the universal sun
  Confines not to one land his blessed beams;
    Nor is man rooted, like a tree, whose seed
      The winds on some ungenial soil have cast
        There, where it cannot prosper.
      - Robert Southey

And for exile they change their homes and pleasant thresholds, and seek a country lying beneath another sun.
  [Lat., Exilioque domos et dulcia limina mutant
    Atque alio patriam quaerunt sub sole jacentem.]
      - Virgil or Vergil (Publius Virgilius Maro Vergil),
        Georgics (bk. II, 511)

I hear the tread of pioneers
  Of nations yet to be,
    The first low wash of waves where soon
      Shall roll a human sea.
      - John Greenleaf Whittier


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