Autumn and winter are in the dreams — the farmer

goes with his thrift,

The droves and crops increase, and the barns are well-filled.

49. Elements merge in the night — ships make tacks in the dreams,

The sailor sails — the exile returns home.

The fugitive returns unharmed — the immigrant is back beyond months and years.

The poor Irishman lives in the simple house of his childhood, with the Avell-known neighbors and faces,

They warmly welcome him — he is barefoot again, he forgets he is well off;

The Dutchman voyages home, and the Scotchman and Welshman voyage home, and the native of the Mediterranean voyages home.

To every port of England, France, Spain, enter well-filled ships,

The Swiss foots it toward his hills — the Prussian goes his way, the Hungarian his way, and the Pole his way.

The Swede returns, and the Dane and Norwegian return.

50. The homeward bound, and the outward liound.

The beautiful lost swimmer, the ennuye, the onanist, the female that loves unrequited, the money-maker,

The actor and actress, those through with their parts, and those waiting to commence,