When an exile from home, with deep sorrow oppressed,
In the new world a pilgrim, unknown and unblessed,
With no light to illumine the shadows that spread
Like the gloom of the sepulcher over my head,
My lonely condition made woman’s bright eye
Mould the beautiful tear-drop of sweet sympathy.

But the feelings of pity were soon changed to love,
That bright seraph of mercy bequeathed from above!
With the gift of her fond heart she sweetened my woe,
Making hope’s dying embers with sweet brightness glow;
Since then my neat cottage, the meadow, parterre —”
Rich pleasures of freedom! —” have been my sole care.

How oft has Aurora, from his soft couch of blue,
Found me cutting fresh grass, all so pearly with dew;
Or engrafting a shoot on the thriving young tree,
While nature was smiling in beauty and glee.
O delightful employment! —” with pleasure how rife
Are the exquisite scenes of a pastoral life.

Far away from the crowd of the giddy and vain,
From the thraldom of tyrants, the rude and profane;
From the folly of idlers that cumber the earth,
Wasting life’s precious season in profitless mirth
Ambition and av’rice disturb not the breast,
While hope points the soul to the realms of the blest.

So pure were the joys and so peaceful the life
That I shared with my lovely and beautiful wife,
I might have been happy, could man but forget
When his country with deadliest foes is beset.
But too oft the sad thoughts would convey me away
In the stillness of midnight, the bustle of day,
Thro’ the foam-crested waves of the dark rolling sea,
To thee, distressed Poland —” once peaceful and free!

Translation from Poets and Poetry of Poland A Collection of Polish Verse, Including a Short Account of the History of Polish Poetry, with Sixty Biographical Sketches of Poland’s Poets and Specimens of Their Composition by Paul Soboleski