The poem
Said Will: "I'll stay and till the land." Said Jack: "I'll sail the sea." So one went forth kit-bag in hand, The other ploughed the lea.
They met again at Christmas-tide, And wistful were the two. Said Jack: "you're lucky here to bide." Said Will: "I envy you."
"For in your eyes a light I see Of tropic shores agleam." Said Jack: "You need not envy me, For still you have the Dream.
"The Dream that lured me out to sea; 'Twas bright as paradise; Far fairer than the memory You see within my eyes.
So if my foolish urge you share In foreign lands to roam, Take up my kit-bag waiting there And I will stay at home."
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Yet while the years have fated Will To sow the sober loam, The eyes of Jack are starry still, High-riding hills of foam.