Two Sorts of Emigrants

His debts are paid, but all his land is gone;
He leaves our narrow seas with many a tear,
Bound for the south, dishearten'd and alone,
To use those energies he wasted here.
A colony of larks their passage take
With him. Small cheer his own sad voyage yields
The rolling seas contrast his quiet lake,
And fleeting shores his patrimonial fields.
At last he lands, half hopeful, half forlorn,
A human heart with all its cares and ties.
The larks, his fellow emigrants, will rise
At once and sing, on alien breezes borne,
Forget the transfer from their native skies,
And sing as bravely to the southern morn.