Facing West from California’s Shores.

FACING west, from California’s shores,

Inquiring, tireless, seeking what is yet unfound,

I, a child, very old, over waves, towards the house of maternity, the land of migrations,

look afar,

Look off the shores of my Western Sea—the circle almost circled;

For, starting westward from Hindustan, from the vales of Kashmere,

From Asia—from the north—from the God, the sage, and the hero,

From the south—from the flowery peninsulas, and the spice islands;

Long having wander’d since—round the earth having wander’d,

Now I face home again—very pleas’d and joyous;

(But where is what I started for, so long ago?

And why is it yet unfound?)