“Home is the Sailor
A battered wrecked old man thrown on this savage shore, far, far from home pent by the sea and dark rebellious brows; twelve, dreary months; sore, stiff with many toils, sickend nigh to death, I take my way along the island’s edge, venting a heavy heart. Thou knowest my years entire, my life, not adoration merely; thou knowest the prayers and vigils of my youth, thou knowest my manhood’s solem and visionary meditations.

Thou knowest how before I commenced I devoted all to come to thee. Thou knowest I have in age ratified all those vows and strictly kept them.

Thou knowest I have not once lost nor faith nor ecstacy in thee, in shackles; prisioned in disgrace, repining not, accepting all from thee, as duly came from thee. O I am sure they really came from thee, the urge, the ador, the unconquerable will, the potent felt interior command, stronger than words; a message from the Heavens whispering to me even in sleep, these speed me on.

My Terminus Near, the clouds already closing in upon me, my brain feels racked bewildered let the old timbers part, I will not part; I will cling fast to thee, O God though the waves buffet me, thee. thee at least I know.

Of the people, by the people, for the people.

Send mail to res00yn5@yahoo.com with questions or comments about this web site. Copyright © 2012 Willie Carter for President Committee Last modified: 01/21/12

Send mail to res00yn5@yahoo.com with questions or comments about this web site.
Copyright © 2012 Willie Carter for President Committee
Last modified: 01/21/12